Never Be Able To Tell You

I've made a list of the things that I'll never be able to tell you I'll never be able to tell you about the poem I'm writing about you This one It's stupid. You'd be the only one I'd want to show this off to Even though you never really knew about my poems anyways But Grief is silly I keep thinking that you'll walk back out from behind that door Standing taller than me. Healthy. Your grin the way it was before And I can't think of anything else to write down Because the same part of me that misses you Hates you for leaving me, anyways Selfish you. Why did you go? This poem I'm writing about you This one. You'll never hear. So I'm reading it out to nobody Instead This poem I'm writing about you This one It says I hate you Because I do Selfish you . Selfish you. Because the Selfish truth is that I hate you more than I love you And I wish you were here so that I'd never have to say it