Write something please.

I like to write stories, mainly short-form, and usually in the form of poetry. Here's one:

Every coy remark is telling.

Vindicated, despite being

In the guilty party. And yet, they

Let you go free. You disgust me.

That’s good, I’m intrigued. Would like to read the rest if there’s any. 

The past memories are few, i miss everything i’ll never be, lingering in the state of you.

Any grace left behind , swept away by the hands of time. Im who is alone ever in their thoughts. Close to the walls, forever anxious in search of friendly shade i dread the sight of blazing flames, eyes sting, from this, our valley of tears, our heads hung in oblivion for so long. if my heart and breath are left to me, one final sigh. 

this is writing about not being understood and how my past memories are full of only the things thats been told to me and the only living done has beenthrough somebody else's trauma