im thinking about him out of the picture
im thinking about the times we've sexted
im thinking about the times youve called me pup
im just enamored with everything youve done
and yet i can't admit it to myself
maybe i cant ever admit it
but
i wish that i can
to atleast
get something to happen
to have the things i want to happen to happen
why does my brain make it so hard
why did i say all those things to you
why do i make suggestive jokes
im doing it and it's put me in such a fragile position
i feel so so bad for doing this to myself
but i
i want to do things with you
i miss being close
i miss being in love
and
and maybe
we'd work out, we have the same brain
same thought process
but
maybe it's all a pipe dream anyways
im not sure
but please, brain, let me atleast try, not now
but whenever they're doing okay
whenever they're feeling ready
whenever it wouldn't hurt them to jump.
YOU ARE READING
I'll Be Fine (pt. 2 of 2)
Poetrypoetry showing my stress. relieving, coping, really. continuing to add poems, sometimes daily. use this as place to talk about your own frustrations and dances with pain and strife
