it's okay if you think i'm faulty,
if you think I'm not good enough and that's why people leave,
that's why maybe you will in the end,
but
you,
I wish things could be alright
I wish you could love me without conditions
without trying
why do you need to try to love me
why is it an effort?
why am I faulted to the extent that it is hard to love me?
i talked to an old friend.
she didn't think I was faulty.
she would say
'who wouldn't like you?'
and i'd think of lists.
maybe everyone.
who would?
YOU ARE READING
29AM (revive)
Puisiall my poetry has ceased to exist. from my mind, and from this silly website, so here I go again.
