I feel
Vastly
Energetic. No.
Positive and
Loved
Are feelings I
Cannot
Ever seem to
Deserve. At least in my mind.
Mostly happy and usually
Yellow. Always grey, black, blue.
Entice
Me to
Open up to a
Title
I
Often always refuse.
No.
Stop trying. You can't.
An unjust designation,
Naming me Miss Perfect.
Don't you see I don't deserve it?
I end up unwillingly
Fading
Ever away into the
Ending where there is no
Love. Have you noticed I'm gone?
Because
Despite
Everything good, it seems
Again I am
Dying.
YOU ARE READING
Nobody Was Meant to See
Poesia[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-
