I give my all into all my love, all my endeavors,
and yet in the end
no one gives as much as I do back
for every three times time I reach
I get one back to me
for every bit of love I get I have to fucking pry
out of people
and God
fucking damnit
I'm tired of prying, and being disappointed, and frustrated.
I'm fucking tired because everything can work out
all okay, but
I get the feeling that I don't know.
so I lay my head to rest,
oh
well.
YOU ARE READING
complacent
Poetryquieter achieved poems from the girl who thinks of stars and angels