YOU ARE READING

Poetry

Being a poet is like being really sick. But instead of vomit, words come out. This is my word vomit.

smile

42 1 0

by kdandurb

by kdandurb

and i put a smile on my face

to convince.

i'm not sure who.

maybe i want to convince you, but

maybe i need to convince myself.

but at night the smile is gone when

i still lay awake

waiting

for you to tell me that

you love me.

but

never

said.

-k.d.