She practically breathes on this stuff
On this but she understands and she lets it go
She doesn't say a word and I'm so guilty
So guilty ugh
I know, I know, why would I be guilty?
I'm the reason she doesn't speak
And she always speaks
Like. Always.
You never have to wonder how she's feeling
And she's being quiet for me
I'm so sorry
But what am I to do?
If I spoke she'd have to say she knew
If either of us spoke then my enemy would be dead
My loved one would go to jail
My world would fall apart and be over just like that
Snap crackle POP
Like a frickin bubble
Or latex balloon
YOU ARE READING
Too Close for Comfort
PoetryPoems and pieces of original songs that describe a silent battle when somebody pushed too far, but I still have to see them often and make it seem to everyone else that all is well. Because I can't always express with flow or rhymes, there are going...
