Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Apr 2021
I've gotten so used to loosing,
That now when I take,
The more my stomach waits.
Waits for me to fill this hole,
That I've created over months.
But I can no longer take.
Because the more I take,
The more I gain.
And the more I gain,
The more I hate,
Hate myself for taking the plate.
Written by
tiredkoalahugs  16/F/Small town in WA
(16/F/Small town in WA)   
432
 
Please log in to view and add comments on poems