There is poetry in my pain.
Pain is a friend I've known so long
that it feels like home.
Happy is like lost art.
Happy is like losing a friend.
Happy is like being evicted.
Most people want to be happy
and I thought I did too
but when pain calls me up
at 2am like an ex-lover
looking to occupy my bed for a few hours
I am tempted in saying yes.
YOU ARE READING
Things I Never Said
PoetryA girl with a stack of notebooks; full of things never read never said.
