There was a time I told you,
of all that ached inside;
the things I held so sacred,
to all the world I'd hide.
But they became your weapons,
and slowly I have learnt,
the less that is said the better,
the lesser I'll be hurt.
Of all the you've used against me,
the worse has been my words.
There are things I'll never tell you,
and it is so sad to think so;
the more you come to know me,
the lesser you will know.
March 24, 2019.
YOU ARE READING
And The Sadness Goes On
Poetrythis is the second part of The Self Assessments Of A Depressed Girl