Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jan 2022
Walking heartache
Daily headache
You’ll be the end of me.

You’re a stone cold brute
I want a shot, but don’t know how to shoot.
Everything seems impossible with you.

So, why do I care? Why do I stay?
Maybe I’ll figure myself out some day.
Eva
Written by
Eva  23/F
(23/F)   
446
 
Please log in to view and add comments on poems