here I am sitting and writing
another poem about someone who
couldn't give less of a fuck.
I understand that you're going through a lot right now, and that's why
I'm trying to be there for you babe.
I'm trying and trying but I need to realize that you don't want it.
You don't want my help
or anything to do with me anymore.
it is a very hard realization to accept,
but it is one that I need to.
I think I'm always trying so hard to help those around me with
their problems,
because,
I want to be what I need,
and I need a distraction
from my own shit.
I need to feel like I have some
sort of purpose here,
because if I can't help myself,
I want to be able to help others.
but now I see, that I can help neither.
I cannot help those around me
and I sure as hell cannot help myself.
but I will continue to break myself,
to try to help those around me.
YOU ARE READING
Words of the heart
Thơ cafor anyone who has ever felt alone or doubtful about themselves, for the sad people who find comfort in poetry, for those who cannot seem to put their...
