Crumbling, I break off pieces of myself and
hand those caring pieces to others without
thinking about myself. People demand
Do not ever think to once ask me how
I am feeling, despite my cries for help being
typed out in a standard front that everyone
Because my handwriting is
And I do not want my feelings
and my heart misinterpreted. I’ve
not actually asked for help, but I am
telling everyone how I am
in this standard front that everyone
suddenly cannot read nor see
And I think I am expecting
to expect those who burrowed into my
heart to actually see if I am okay just
because I do the same for them.
How ridiculous that I believed that
anyone really cared. Most
people chase the summer sun, and
those lost withing the winter
cold are battling their own storm.
Fair weather friends, (un)fair weather friends.