and my friends and family don't understand. they ask me why. they say to stop. they don't get it. i've asked myself the same question. i've tried. it's not as simple as they think.
i'm sorry that you watch me hurt, i'm sorry you watch my heart break. i'm sorry that i talk too much about him. i'm sorry that i'm far more infatuated with him than daily gossip. i'm sorry that i'll always choose him over you.
but i'm not sorry for being addicted to a poison with two hands and a mouth that touch me in all the right places. i'm not sorry for being happy. i'm not sorry for fucking up.
i'm not sorry for loving him.
YOU ARE READING
ampersand
Poetrya collection of trash poetry from a girl who tries to treat people with kindness although many have been unkind to her
