Don't hold my things
I'm capable of more than you think
Is it the pride talking? Might be
Stop balking when I'm just me
Don't hold the car door as I get in
And don't hold my hand in front of my friends
I'm lonely, it's how I've always been
Using me to meet your ends
I don't need your "thick skin"
Leave me all alone
Then call my phone
And you want to take my bag?
This is a drag
Fill me in
Go ahead, lift your chin
Stare smugly down
Oops, dropped my crown
Lost and upset
Get it in your head
I want to open my door
And carry my bags
Leave it on the floor
Ditched the riches for rags
I'm tired of your poor
Attitude toward life
Not falling for your
Complex boy strife
Don't hold my bags
And drop my calls
Don't pretend to gag
And push me against the wall
Try to kiss
My "odd-shaped" lips
Push me mentally
To an abyss
Then hold me gently
Warning bell rings, as you contradict
Everything you claim to be
If you want to carry my things, without being kicked
Lose the toxicity
an ode to the "complicated boy"s who are really just toxic. don't carry my bags.
YOU ARE READING
Passionate Poems and Demure Drawings
PoetryPoems and pictures, filled with back-and-forth, battling emotions. Some are lighthearted as can be, practically fit for a children's story, while some are dark and wild, taking a nature the opposite of mild.
