I don't want
Your pity.
You ask me what I'm thinking about.
I tell you.
You question me, asking:
Why?
I want to tell you
That I miss you.
Don't tell me that you feel bad.
Don't say sorry.
Do.
Not.
Pity.
Me.
Ever.
Because I do not want it.
Not from you,
Not from anyone.
I told you because you asked.
And no reason more.
YOU ARE READING
Felt
PoetryA collection of terrible "poems" I've written. Be these things I have felt, will feel, want to feel, or never have before, but just wanted to write about. Enjoy.
