This boy told me he loved me
And I wanted so badly to get butterflies
And to grab him and kiss him
Because I think he's good,
You know,
Like maybe he won't break me,
But every time he says it
I just get sick
Because I can't stop thinking
About all the times
You told me you loved me
And
Probably never meant it.
YOU ARE READING
Depression
PoetryDe•pres•sion /dèpreSH(e)n/ 1. The feeling of serve despondency and dejection "I'm often silent when I'm screaming inside." - CREDITS TO THE OWNER WHO WROTE SOME OF THESE--Will state the ones that are MINE. Don't fight me over this.
