Troublesome

I'm tired of crying.
I'm tired of sighing.
I'm tired of lying.
I'm tired of trying.

I'm hurt and sad.
I'm crying and never glad.
I'm suffering of love I've never had.
I'm dying of this pain which is making me mad.

Why can't you make someone love you back?
Why can't there be love without an anxiety attack?
Why can't you not give me a heart attack?
Why can't I never believe the facts?

Can I stop crying and sobbing?
Can I have my heart back from you robbing?
Can I keep fishing while the bobber is bobbing?
Can I make it through the day while my wounds are throbbing?

I can't love you.
I can't believe what's true.
I can't think of anything I knew.
I can't even wonder what I got myself into.

I don't hate you at all.
I don't hate you that you made me fall.
I don't hate you for anything small.
I don't hate you for anything that I can recall.


I love you

Author's Note

Review? I need criticism...

Reviews

[Thomas Yarbrough]

I enjoyed the consistent simplicity, like a children's verse of pain. the last two lines are sweet, one hopes you don't remember, events left untriggered.