I'm sad so I tell you
But that makes you sad.
Giving me guilt, making it worse.So, I won't tell you.
Now I'm crying because you don't know.
Because I don't want you to cry.
And you talk about how good life is
Whilst I'm here in crisis.I put on that happy voice
Over the phone.
I can't face you anymore.Because you make me sad.
YOU ARE READING
Lachrymose
PoetryLachrymose /ˈlakrɪməʊs,ˈlakrɪməʊz/ adjective tearful or given to weeping. A collection of amateur prose and poetry illustrating the inner turmoil. Mainly a dumping ground for loose thoughts and ideas to be interpreted in whatever manner.