That box on the floor
Tucked away in the corner
It was meant for you
All inside of it
Was supposed to find it's way to you
But it never did
You finally found it
But you didn't react how I expected
You got mad
Why would you get upset
Why get upset about the letters I wrote
I mean, I wrote them for you
Why cry
Don't you see who you are
Do you not know what you've done to me
Are you finally realizing
Realizing how bad you've hurt me
How and you've hurt everyone
Why do you cry
Why do you tell
When all I did was write out the truth
The truth of you isn't what you try to make it seem
You aren't a kind person
You're an evil, disturbing, individual
I don't feel bad for the words I wrote on those papers
They contain nothing but truth
And you could never handle it
YOU ARE READING
All Sorts Of Poetry
PoetryPeople say I'm very poetic and sometimes I write poems just cause why not I'll put any trigger warnings if needed, don't worry
