A poem For My Harasser
You mock me from your spot
ten feet away
like your words have power over anything I say
And your stare from your lunch table
is getting more intense
with each passing second
but I would move, beaches I
know it kills you
I wonder that if you could go back in time
would you change the things you said
or would you make your movements over again
knowing that you've hurt me
would that change your mind?
It'd probably only entice you, your
brain is stranger than mine
YOU ARE READING
Philophobia
PoetryAssorted 100% original poetry pieces. Also some random excerpts from small stories (also original). Philophobia: (n.) a fear of love, falling in love WARNING: Indirect and direct references to sexual assault, depression, self-harm and suicide
