I am ashamed of my longing.
I should be content.
This is a short phase - where I call you at 1am crying,
pathetically:
"I'm lonely," I puff, sobbing.
But you are no help to me.
You are useless to me.
I don't need:
- your words of sympathy
- your soft shell crab hugs
- your fingers pushing hair behind my ears
This is no comfort to me!
Then I tell you this and you leave.
I am a fool,
and alone again.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment