When?

Thoughts of a troubled teen

When I say I am doing well, doesn't mean I don't need help. You will never hear me ask because I am afraid. Not of your opinion out the pity that is now constantly present in your eyes. But instead, of the moment you are no longer there. It is not a matter of if, but when. When will you leave me? When will I become too much of a burden? You promise it won't happen, that you will always be there. Where were you after my second surgery? When will you come visit like you promised? When will I see a text alert on my phone asking how I'm doing? Do I even cross your mind? Or do you just thank God it isn't you?

Author's Note

First entry.... Be gentle but want some feedback

Reviews

[EJ's Horror]

You've created a relatable character
We've all been at some point of our lives.

[Aliina]

Nice. It cud have been a good poem though