i thought someone would come to dive the ocean or run into the burning house.
i thought someone would jump off train or cry in front of a shattered plane. . .
. . . for me
i never thought of wiggling my tiny feet or swimming my little hands.
i never thought sacrificing my so-called friends or letting go of my ridiculous fame.
i never thought of making myself happy or saving myself alone.
YOU ARE READING
a writer's tear can write a book
Poetry". . . but if being sad is the only way to make myself write then i would gladly volunteer to be obliterated." genre: poetry // english
