mom, don't you know?
that people tells me I'm too quiet
that my personality revolves around not
giving a shit
but when you talk to me
you pull out my 8 year old self
open your mouth and suddenly
i am not here
there is only a child you
made knees bled
arms broken
eyes hurt so bad she can't even open them
you see, the "me" living inside the deepest
part of my heart is just a
child
and i think i
still am
so do not talk to me
unless you want to see the past
you created,
YOU ARE READING
Dazed Off
Poetry𝑰 𝒂𝒄𝒉𝒆 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒄𝒂𝒍𝒎𝒏𝒆𝒔𝒔, 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒐𝒄𝒆𝒂𝒏 𝒘𝒂𝒗𝒆𝒔 𝒘𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅 𝒆𝒎𝒊𝒕; 𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒅 𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒖𝒓𝒆 𝒍𝒖𝒍𝒍𝒂𝒃𝒊𝒆𝒔 𝒊𝒎𝒑𝒍𝒚 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒔𝒊𝒎𝒑𝒍𝒚... 𝒅𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒎 𝒂𝒃𝒐𝒖𝒕. A collection of poems...
