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Mar 2020
hold me
in the dead of night
when no one else will

wear me
a rusted red bangle
choke my freedom

spare me
when angels are around
consume me when
they fly

float from
the mouths of those
who say they
love me

i trust no other voice
but your shrieking
whisper

they tell me they
love me
they tell me
you tell me
tell me
love me
a poem about needing constant reassurance - and how loneliness can make you doubt the legitimacy of even those who love you the most
Written by
Andrew Watson
308
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