a short, sad piece. leave your thoughts in the comments, if you so wish
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pour/poor
I still have acne on my face
And room to grow in my shoes.
I don't think it should hurt this bad.
Isn't it strange and awful to be left here?
Love me in the dark.
Pretend I am someone else if you have to.
Reach straight through me.
Just be here.
Love me just once.
Just once.
I promise.
YOU ARE READING
songs we sang on sundays
Poetrya random collection of original poems by yours truly about love, depression, god, and all things teen angst. feel free to give critiques (kindly please). I haven't shared these with many people and I want to get better at this craft I love so dearly...
