since when did love
feel like
silence, a static phone call
waiting to be answered?
since when did love
feel so lonely
and far away
in a world where i
am unable to penetrate?
have i become so weak?
or have i not changed at all,
still unsure of myself,
still small
living on fueled bravado?
maybe im just
not the right ship
to enter his world,
just someone
he pities enough
he can pretend to
call it
love
only time
will be able to tell
YOU ARE READING
Miscontrued Sentences
PoetryNo one can understand yourself better than you. But we can all relate to the feelings that are often miscontrued by media, language, and everything in between. This is my ode to poetry, to the sad, the lonely, to everyone, and to myself.
