Each time I take a moment to analyze my surroundings
I notice it.
Every conversation I have
It's there.
Every time I make eye contact
I feel it.
I'm making them suffer.
Burdening the poor souls of the ones I call friends.
They never want to be there.
You never want to be there.
Maybe I shouldn't be here.
Maybe I shouldn't keep you here.
So, like a fresh new page in a brand new journal
I tear out the memories of you.
To make you happy.
I throw away the remnants of you.
To start over on my own.
YOU ARE READING
~|:|~Poems~|:|~
PoetryJust a few poems I put together throughout quarantine because I had nothing better to do with my life. Quick warning, some of these deal with dark themes and mental illnesses, such as suicide and self-harm. If you are sensitive to these sorts of top...
