I knew it'd be hard on me
To silence my sobs
And it'd be hard on you
To pretend not to hear them
And smile at me in the morning
Wondering if it's okay
To ask questions
Why are you like this?
When did you become like this?
Where did you go wrong?
How come you're still here?
Surviving all this?
And I'd say stop
Just stop
Stop asking me questions
I hate to see you cry
-why I'm so terrified of sharing a bed with someone
YOU ARE READING
The Aftertaste
PoetryThese are just a bunch of shitty poems (at least I think they're poems) don't even waste your time
