My Mid-Summer Crisis
My thoughts hurt much more than your words do.
They are the moment the nail punctures your shoe,
and the creeping feeling of never having enough time.
I don’t ask for reassurance because I don’t want to bother you more than I already have.
I know I am loved, my fear is that I’m only loved out of pity
like the doll you don’t have the heart to throw away.
I was asked to keep a journal of everything that stresses me out.
You really want to know? This is what stresses me out!
The feeling of “No one actually likes you, they’re either using you or being nice.”
So please just tell me you love me
every single day
so these thoughts can’t come back.