My eyes,
they cry,
My hands,
they shake,
My throat,
it stings with bile,
When I see or think of you,
And your deceitful smile.
I don’t think I hate you,
But I do hate what you've changed,
You have censored me,
Taken my voice,
My friends are now estranged.
When you cross my mind,
Which is almost every day,
I wonder if you think,
What you’ve done,
Is okay?
It isn’t.
May 28, 2020
May 28, 2020 at 10:41 PM UTC
My eyes,
they cry,
My hands,
they shake,
My throat,
it stings with bile,
When I see or think of you,
And your deceitful smile.
I don’t think I hate you,
But I do hate what you've changed,
You have censored me,
Taken my voice,
My friends are now estranged.
When you cross my mind,
Which is almost every day,
I wonder if you think,
What you’ve done,
Is okay?
It isn’t.