Lingering around on a Monday night
Got nothing to do
The ideas don't bite
Decided to check on your page.
This isn't the first time.
I struggle in my cage,
and I switch between reality and fantasy
When I'm with you,
your tender embrace engulfs me,
not purposly.
Everything seems okay.
For the first time.
The fake girlfriend would get mad.
I'm just a mized up mess.
Do you even love me?
Do I even love you?
I don't know who you are.
Not two faced, or three or four.
What I know is that they are all very gorgeous.
But that heart of yours...
Harder than the lacrosse ball we've passed.
Colder than the rink I was forced to watch you play at.
Uglier than your face.
Your mood changes faster than a girl's order at Starbucks.
My feelings are just a mixed up mess.
This poem was supposed to be a song
about your fake barbie bae
(We all know your gay)
I just cut myself open,
and bled my heart out
all over the paper.
Don't wreck this mess
and maybe it will be about you
like most things.
i am mixed up about you, and this mess.
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Explanation about this poem:
the girl in this poem knows a guy. He's always changing, just like the poem, and her feelings for him. she doesn't know what's real and what isn't. She's just a mized up mess.
YOU ARE READING
In the Dark
PoesiaI write poems when I can't sleep. I bleed my mind. These poems are unedited, and written in the dark. Some poems are free verse, and some I wrote with a clear rhyming pattern. In some poems, I tried. But I surprise my self sometimes.
