I don't like how during the day, the night seems like a best friend.
But when the night actually comes,
the silence seems too quiet,
and now matter how loud my music is,
it can never drown out my thoughts.
And if maybe, just maybe,
I keep my eyes closed,
and I focus on my ears,
I can just listen.
But then I feel weak,
and vulnerable.
Like the quiet is deceiving me.
Like the comfort of the sound doesn't exist.
I don't think best friends should deceive you like that.
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-
