anger issues
she called them anger issues
when i asked her why her fingers shake when she writes
and why she rode the high of her sadness
and carried the world between her shoulderblades
and she liked it.
she liked it
and she called it inspiration
and when I said stop
when i said get help
she ran away
because she loved her sadness
she called them anger issues
she held it in the right atrium of her heart
even though each pump of blood was poison
she loved it.
she molded depression and inspiration together
until she didn't know if she was getting worse or getting better
and when I told her to stop
when I told her to get help
She cried for days
and for nights
Because I think she fell in love
in love with sadness.
she liked the cracks in her mind
she liked her stained glass view of the world
she was addicted
the way you are of abuse
the way you are afraid to leave
even when it's bad
She called it anger issues
But I think she's just sad.
YOU ARE READING
Dear Friend
PoetryDear friend Dear lover Dear mother Here are some things I could never say. Most of these poems are not mine. Credit will be passed to the owner,please comment if you think it is your poem.
