The Little Things

They hurt the most, the little things.

When they are denied.

I wanted to go with you, I did.

I tried to tell you, I really tried.

You passed it off as joking,

Because of how I said the words.

Maybe I wanted you to do that,

To lessen how much it hurt.

I know you didn’t mean to,

And I couldn’t have come anyway.

But that I wanted to do it with you,

Is something I just had to say.

But saying it, makes it hurts more,

Because it makes it real.

It forces me to face the truth in this,

Of how it makes me feel.

And why do I need to face the feelings, of missing

The little things.

I don’t. In reality, I need to get used to all of this.

Numbing the pain it brings.

My little things are different to yours,

Because I had to find my own.

But you’d be more than welcome there,

Because I just don’t want to be alone.

Author's Note

Thanks for reading :)