I’m talking with a boyfriend of hers,
he’s one I never liked…
but since she has self-destructed again,
he has fallen to despair,
unsure and confused of the “whys” and “how’s”,
shocked by the daring gamble she lives by,
“Why does she do this?”
“She hates herself underneath her stuck-up front, kid…
life has never given her a reason for anything more.”

We just don’t know.

2 thoughts on “Sidenotes.

  1. Deep! & brutally honest. I like that about you.

    You tell your poetry with such realism and heart. 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Reblogged this on georgeforfun and commented:

    Indeed, if we could just read minds, hearts, and souls, we wouldn’t have to ask about the truth instead of sorting out the lies. So sad, we have to rely on guesswork and perceptions. Limits the help we can offer, even sadder.


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