i care too much. i can't stop caring. i can't let go. Mother will call, and call, and call. i answer, without fail or hesitation. the best friend's will take, make snide comments, say mean things, do mean things, hurt me. i will be by their side no matter what. my fatal flaw is that when you tell me that i'm too emotional, i will never stop thinking that. i was once told i had the biggest nose in the third grade. i am still hyperaware, and ashamed of it.
letting go is the hardest thing to do when you think you deserve the pain.
You said you miss me With a pouting face For a second I felt for you But you don’t know anything about me You’re clueless You don’t care how I am So how can you miss me… If you don’t care about me? Maybe it’s the idea of me that you miss Or the attention I gave Always ignoring me Till it suited you to respond I feel no bond So here I am letting go It’s over now.
When I say something It means something When I say nothing It means many things Unconditionally I love Conditionally I unlove I am friends if untouched Foe if recklessly touched Scrambled egg or egg fry I make of the liars lying Poetry of poetasters Doesn't qualify in their eyes Weight of their degrees So high They crumble under Light weight poems of small fries Gate keeping suits them Guarding security risk to their life On HelloPoetry Poetry good or bad Instrument of healing On HelloPoetry Poetry an instrument for feeling Nobel laureates You aren't dealing!
Randomly written without much thought. May be reflection of the subconscious.
"No offense but you're like really fat." this was said to me in second grade by another kid to be fair, yes i was an obese little second grader but i had been growing about three inches every year since i had turned three i don't believe this person was being inherently malicious but i will never forget their words and the way they made me feel
don’t ever come back you left and that’s fine it’s always been fine to me i should have cheated on you because as confusing as it was i never loved you you never wanted me what you think you hold this guiding beacon of myself that i held onto dear what you stole and **** on isn’t my only grace if only you were to face yourself for the **** ******* living behind those empty ******* words bending the truth and reality with all your disgusting lies your departure left few and heavy cries like a dead great uncle you meant nothing to me
This was a super toxic thought process. But I think I was able to sorta work thru some ollllllld **** with it so idk I like the title I think it’s funny.