I don't want to miss you.
At first I thought I might die
With that painful fire in my chest
And even though I now know I don't want you- the strings cut loose
I can't help but miss that ghost of a smile
Those eyes poured straight from the ocean
The someone I grew up with.
Goodbye. Goodbye. Goodbye. Goodbye. Goodbye.
A thousand times.
A thousand questions.
Who was I to you? Who was I ever?
Was I just another phantom used to fill your heart?
I'd like to say not
I wish I could say I know better,
After everything.
Nothing's answered.
But that's life.
So I'll move on. I'll move on.
Even after you've slit my wrists and left me to bleed
Then having the guts to not claim your actions.
(That's what sickened me. If I'm honest.)
And I know you'll never read this.
And maybe that's why I'm writing it.
Maybe that's why I'm writing it.
In the end, I'd like to say this is better.
YOU ARE READING
Accounts of (a) Probably-Not-So-Normal Teenager(s)
RandomThere's a lot to life. I'm just here to share my thoughts. --- Message me if you want an entry of yours put up here; it can be anything from a crappy poem you came up with, or just something interesting you thought of a while ago.
