Why do you have to make me feel like this,
Crying in my sleep,
Having dreams about cutting my wrist,
Feeling so lonely,
Acting like a mess,
Trying to find closering in somebody,
But when I do,
You tell them the rest;
The stories about how I went down on my knees,
The tale of the lonely girl,
Wandering in her sleep,
The lies about me being a bitch like always,
But never the stories I should have told them,
You go around spreading lies,
Spreading poison,
You say I deserve it,
But it's only you who enjoys it,
Too much to care to say the truth,
And that's the story of how I began to hate you.
YOU ARE READING
Dust of the untold
PoetryYet another poem collection, Ready to be free, Words written down by a stranger, Some scars you just got to see. A collection of hearts, A bucket of sorrow, A box of pain and my deepest thoughts. These are untold stories, From a closed soul, and a c...
