This is what being screwed over feels like:
10,000 tiny daggers piercing my feelings
Until they are all weeping with me
Are my feelings the cause of my crying?
I haven't cried yet.
I don't know what he was thinking-
I was selfish.
Maybe my expectations weren't met.
I understand
But it's too late.
I'm here, if you want
I want to talk to you.
Now it's just a waiting game.
And although he fills many
Waking thoughts
He probably just avoids thinking of
Me; an undesirable... problem.
And it all comes back to:
I deserve no one.
YOU ARE READING
Petrichor
PoetryWe grow old eventually {here are the waking thoughts that consume me}