I don't want to admit,
because it hurts to much.
Breaking apart bit by bit,
and you're holding the gun.
I don't want to admit,
because i'll dissapoint.
You won't see me fit,
I won't seem alright anymore.
I don't want to admit,
because i'll upset.
Like a slap or a hit,
it'll be something I'll always regret.
I don't want to admit,
because it hurts to much.
I won't seem perfect anymore,
you'll hold the gun,
and you'll pull the trigger.
YOU ARE READING
Tear In The Pages
Poetry"A collection of short poems that will tug at your heart strings."
