They ask me questions, they want to know. Yet when I try, they just say, "So?" They claim they care about me, about what I think, about my thoughts and my feelings. I begin to talk, I get tuned out, like the TV in the background. They say they can see through my tough exterior, I'm not good at hiding my true interior. Voices cracking, eyesight blurred, hands are shaking, not another word. I put up a wall trying to hide it all, but what good does it do when they can see right through to you?
YOU ARE READING
Random sentences.
RandomSo this will just be a book filled with sentence. They will be things I write when I feel like venting or need to say things. Basically this is my poetry-ish type stuff and the place where I just write what I'm feeling or write what comes to mind.
