everyday
remembering every little thing i hate.
how do i see the good
if each and every day somehow it gets sucked out of me?
but you, my friend
make me see the bright side
the laughing
your smile
it doesn't just make me feel good for a little while.
without you
maybe i'd be 6 feet under
but you're the sun
even when there's thunder.
YOU ARE READING
Conversations With Myself
PoetryWhat is it that I think? Does it even matter? I leave a lot of things unsaid, unheard, and well.. Here's all the things I wish someone would've and could've heard me say.
