You don't love me, I've been told.
Either I'm too young or shit, too old.
None of them love me, but I don't desire that.
It's alright, you know.
You didn't love me, I know.
YOU ARE READING
poetry for delight
Poetryall the deep stuff from my dark, depressed mind. *come ye immortal thoughts from my black soul of desperation. COPYRIGHT © 2017, Keely Miller All Rights Reserved, Penalties to forgers and those who use material written by author without permis...
