I can tell you're getting tired of me.
In the short responses
while you look at your jeans.
I can tell, you'd rather be with her
as you look over my shoulder
at the door opening wider.
I can tell, that I'm bothering you.
In your tired looks,
you think,
that I'm a problem, and I think so too.
You shouldn't bother.
Trying to assure me otherwise,
because I don't believe you
as I look in your eyes.
When you falsely say I'm worth everything.
YOU ARE READING
Nobody Was Meant to See
Poetry[Trigger Warning, please be safe when reading] They aren't supposed to know. They aren't meant to read these poems that I'm writing. I've concealed them for a reason. -Shitty poems about how I feel-
