I'm just so sick of this town,
that I can't keep myself
from screaming.
I'm sorry I look so angry,
but I'm going through a lot.
So please don't ask me
if I'm okay,
because I know you hate when
I say that I'm not.
You ask too many questions
for a girl like me to process,
because we both know that I'm
dangerously close
to a mental breakdown.
YOU ARE READING
Seeking Solace
Poetry"No One Sane writes a novel" "Now you see What's wrong with me." // Chicklit #366 Miscellaneous poems of a never ending sort.
