Well its ever so obvious that I'm oblivious to the unwelcoming oblivious I do voluntarily return to. It's like an acute addiction with obtuse effects I can't feel because of the pain I try to endure for those that never even remember I'm alive. Yes, No, Maybe are the answers I have to give. Yes it all hurts, No I won't let it get better because I lie with the third response everyday when I'm alone sleeping on my couch by telling myself "Maybe one day she will love me, Maybe it will get better tomorrow"
YOU ARE READING
The Mind of a Bear.
PoesiaA collection of Poems written over time about different people. They are honest. They are true. This is a deep look inside my mind, my heart and my soul.
