I don't want to argue.
I'm not trying to make you upset.
To you, my every word means that I'm angry...
Angry about futile matters.
It hurts.
I feel like you're punishing me.
Whenever you don't understand me, you end our words.
You end us.
If you cared enough to pursue my understanding,
you would try and lay your words out in front of me.
But NO....
Instead, you cause a silent dysfunction, and shut me out.
You run away to your hiding place, and talk to the sweeter hearts that you'd rather have.
I should have known this would happen,
But I was stupid.
As soon as you gave me your small interest, I took it and ran with it.
I didn't think about what's on the inside of you - the way that you are.
I didn't think about the hurt you threw at me in the past.
I just didn't think...
I'm just the temporary heart you settled for; and I knew that.
But, I can't go!
I'm in your bondage...
If I go, loneliness awaits...
YOU ARE READING
Dear Suicide...
Poetry(#12 in Poetry- 3/5/17 |14 in Poetry- 2/28/17 |23 in Poetry- 11/18/16) Have you ever considered picking up a pen and writing to the one you fear most? Well, that's what I've done. When I write to my fears, It's oddly satisfying, because I know that...