Would You Still Love Me?
If I Told You?
You don't know me, like you think you do.
You don't know what I'm going through.
I put on a smile, and a happy attitude.
Even though, I know you won't feel any gratitude.
If I tell you the truth, will you run and turn away from me?
I wish you could see, who I want to be.
My body is just a shell, it's not who I am inside.
Sometimes, I feel like I want to hide.
You don't know me, like you think you do.
Would you still love me, if I told you?
About the Creator
Keep reading
More stories from Virginia Stackhouse and writers in Poets and other communities.
Hade's Express
“Ticket check, ticket check, please have your tickets ready!” Startled, I woke up from a deep sleep. Where am I, and how did I get here? Frantic, I feel around my jacket and look in my pocket for any sign of a ticket. Nothing. The last thing I remember, is that I fell asleep, in my bed. I don’t even remember dreaming. Is this a dream? I pinch myself, which I could feel, “no,” I think to myself, “it’s not a dream.” The conductor is a few isles behind me, now, “ticket check, ticket check, please have your tickets ready, the conductor repeated again, walking down the aisles. Getting more nervous by the second, I keep fumbling around my clothes, looking for anything resembling a ticket. He’s getting closer and closer, until he is right next to me. The conductor stops at my seat, “ticket please,” he said. Still fumbling around my jacket I look up at him and say, “sir, I’m sorry, I don’t have,” what’s this? In my pocket, out of nowhere, there is what appears to be a paper-like object. I pull it out, it’s a black ticket, with red writing on it. A chill went up and down my spine. There were goosebumps on my arms and legs.
By Virginia Stackhouse4 years ago in Horror
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.