You liked my post yesterday.
And maybe it's because you weren't thinking and you didn't realize it was me because I wasn't showing my face but it's the little string of hope I have that remains.
And maybe you'll always resent me for the choice that I made but you don't know I wasn't the only one that day, just the one that would admit. I'd rather be hated than have you commit. Rather lose our friendship that your neck be tied fatally tight, rather miss you all the time than that be your last night.
What would I do if your lips turned blue as you wanted them to? I'd give up all light in my life for you to live and I know that I just couldn't forgive myself if my silence let another try and die, but hate me, alright? I would hate me too. But I don't deny I wish you knew your two best friends did it too. They wished for no consequence so only I lose.
Should you learn the part they played you would hate me no longer. Yet we'll remain encompassed in sonder. I hope you know you still have a life ahead of you to conquer.
But hey, you liked my post yesterday. Maybe you don't want me to die as much.
YOU ARE READING
Quiver
Poetrya place where I've written my feelings when I felt them. it has become a story of depression and recovery, love and loss, hope and fear, and everything in-between. mostly poetry, sometimes stories. :)
