I read a book once
I was harsh to the girl from the book
She had lost her mom, the girl
And she cried lots, begging her mom to come back
I didn’t feel bad for her
She kind of annoyed me actually
She thought about suicide
That annoyed me as well
She thought how unfair it was to her
I rolled my eyes at that
She whispered words to her dead mother
Pshhhh
I rolled my eyes
Why was she being so weak
She needed to stop, and soon
All of that did not work
None of it helped
I knew very well
About dead people
Dead people we love
None of it helps
I knew very well
I know very well
I’d been there
I’m there
But then she did make me sad
The girl from the book