I broke your trust.
I mean, did I expect anything else?
I prefer you alive and mad
to dead and nothing...
You burdened me, Ella,
and I don't like that.
Now I had to tell people.
Had to lean on my friends,
the thirty-year-olds.
And now my parents know.
My mom looked at me with pity.
This is exactly what I'd tried to avoid...
you play the victim, and I can't decide
if you are, if I am,
or if it's both of us.
I cut my thumb because of you.
Told the counselor I was fine,
I wasn't in any danger,
as I watched blood leak from my knuckle
under my keyboard.
I'm a liar now.
It's not as if I wasn't before,
but now I lied for no good reason...
now I list how I describe myself:
fat,
ugly,
guilty,
unkind,
selfish,
untrustworthy,
self-absorbed,
butting in on something that is none of my business.
But I don't like you anymore.
I'm sorry.
ᴵ'ᵐ ⁿᵒᵗ ˢᵒʳʳʸ....
YOU ARE READING
Stormy Shoals: A Poetry Collection
PoetryAnother poetry collection from my heart, just letting the words bleed onto the page. I mask the hurt with pain, because pain demands to be felt. But hurt just demands to ruin your life.... 🖤🖤Trigger warning: everything🖤🖤 "Criminally underrated...