| why i dont write poetry |
| it hurts on the inside, like you dont know like i wouldnt want you to know cant talk, cant move, cant breathe burdened by the words - they escape they dont help the pain i cant even understand myself its so normal, healthy, good in ways i cant ever see good is too good, bad too bad why am i embarrassed just to admit... why do i think about it at all? writing brings it to the surface exposed, obvious, blinding theres no better way to not feel any better yet there i go again... what does it mean when i say anything? ...when i write anything? what does "i love you" mean? what does it mean when i talk about pain? it doesnt matter anymore it never did matter it hurts on the inside, like you wouldnt believe but im not going to tell you any more you just wouldnt understand |