Who am I,
If I am a number two.
I'm sorry,
For my sorrow.
And
My love for you,
Being fathomless
But my feelings
To you
Are null.
Caring about you,
Is my dole.
Caring about me
Is scary.
You hit me away,
With a massé,
But do you know the way,
To getting over you?
I stare at you with glamour,
Yet you can't hear
The clamour in my head.
Screaming thoughts,
Weeping feelings.
Why do I do I dare to care.
Will you ravish my animated carcass
Or
Will I end up under a bus?
Which your number one is on.
Will they care?
Or
Will I be stepped on and forgotten?
YOU ARE READING
Why Was It You?
PoetryA collection of thoughts, that mean a lot to me but not to you