I hate that I'm always there for him when he doesn't care about me. I'd do anything for him if he asked. I constantly wait for the moment when he shows an interest in me and chooses to talk to me. I hate how my happiness is so reliant on whether or not he'll talk to me. I'm constantly waiting. I'm constantly checking my phone and hoping I'll see his name pop up. Relentlessly telling myself to stop waiting for the slim chance he might actually fight for us or that if he really wanted us to work he would try but for some odd reason I still can't bring myself to stop caring about him. I can't let him go, I can't move on. I hold on to the hope that maybe, just maybe there's a chance that he wants me too.
YOU ARE READING
things i would never say to you
PoetryThis book is all poetry that I relate to, maybe you can relate to some of it too. Most poems are mine but some aren't. These poems aren't all about one person.
