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john Apr 25
i feel like i wanna cry,
every time i step outside.

this happens for weeks and months,
for the years i still live in.

i hate the way i feel about myself.

i hate the way my body looks,
i hate the way my face looks,
i hate the way im weak,
i just hate it.

my stomach hurts.

i feel exposed in my own clothes,
that it makes me wanna curl up,
on the bed or the floor,
just to never show myself again.
john Apr 12
to my future lover,
to my future boy,
to my future love of my life and the like.

we haven't met yet,
and i'm not sure if we will,
but i'm willing to ask you a few questions of mine.

promise you'll be gentle?
promise you'll be kind?
promise you'll be loyal, mine and only mine?

i hope it's not too much,
i hope i'm not too much,
i hope you're okay with those requirements of mine,
i hope you're okay with holding me in your arms,
to drown,
to melt,
to snuggle in every inch of them.

please be gentle,
please be honest,
please be kind,
please be mine.

always, with undying love,
yours, sammy.
my first ever poem.

— The End —