"I know you better than you know yourself,"
He whispered to her as she began to tremble.
He started to name off every little thing even she didn't know.
"But how? If nobody else knows who I am, how could you?"
Nobody, not even herself, knows her that well.
That's presumably because she has hidden herself so well—
She became so blind to all around her,
She even became blind to herself as well.
YOU ARE READING
I'm Not Okay. I'm Sorry.
Poetrythis is just an outlet for some of my poetry and poetic thoughts. my mindsets and my perspective. i can tell you now that it won't all rhyme. don't expect perfection. enjoy, i guess. xx 💕
