when it started i could play it off as
running into a table,
and getting scratches on my hip.
then it got too much;
i got carried away.
i couldn't move.
maybe they'll start asking questions,
maybe they'll turn the other way.
if it ends, what then?
they don't go away.
'*'
YOU ARE READING
Why You
PoetryJust poems. Some poems that I have written and others from the internet. If you would like to send me poems, I will dedicate that page to you. Or if you want to stay anonymous that's fine, too. Poems that I have wrote will have a '*' at the end. Pl...
