i wonder what it feels like
to have the bravery to tell the one you love
in a feeling vicarious of a critic
exposing exactly what you dislike
about something so dear
i cant imagine it
i may joke about it but i couldn't ever do it, really
no way i could tell anyone i see as so perfect
what minute details i dont like
something that's truly a conflict, sure
but something as small as a nitpick or a topic
i couldn't even bring the topic up
realistically
i need to shut up sometimes
because i find things we don't agree on
and i just
i dont care about speaking my mind anymore
when the price might be you.
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
