Nostalgia
On days like this I hate youweakened and overtaken by tiredness and sorrow
curled up, alone
crying tears of frustration, anger and self-hate
on my kitchen floor
On days like this I hate him for ever making me believe he'd catch me when I fell
into him
for denying he ever fully believed in us
when I, fresh and young, put my whole life and future in his arms
silly and young - depressed and young
On days like this I hate you for never being there when I needed you the most
for causing me to have to search in the safest depths of my mind
and in the arms of idealistic men
what you should have been able to give me for free
These are the only days I think of you
Lately,
there are too many of these days
Poetry by SecretWords
Read 449 times
Written on 2012-02-10 at 22:51
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