she couldn't help but repeat herself,
her feelings rarely changed.
sad, confused, tired, and lonely -
she had become deranged.
YOU ARE READING
Things I Was Thinking
Poetryforgive me, but it's raining outside and i'm a teenager in love.
it felt like everything she wrote sounded the same
she couldn't help but repeat herself,
her feelings rarely changed.
sad, confused, tired, and lonely -
she had become deranged.