Your words mean something.
You throw them around,
As though they are worthless.
You say them,
As though they have no impact.
But every time,
Every fucking time,
You say those words-
The same words you spoke to me,
Just simplified to fit their vocabulary-
That stings.
No,
It kills.
You don't care how I feel.
You've made that obvious.
After all we've been through,
After all you've told me,
I thought you'd be the one to stay.
But you don't care.
You don't care.
Don't.
Care.
But for some reason,
I still do.
YOU ARE READING
Thoughts
PoesiaMy thoughts tend to form like poems, so I figured I'd share them- part of me hoping they make sense to more than just myself.
