they follow her around everywhere she goes
teasing, suffocating, drowning
why, they are the cause of all her woes.
she can't even recall the first time that they met,
it was far too long ago
it seems only natural to forget.
they thrive in the authentic moments―
the ones that seem to last forever.
they like to absorb the sun out of it,
leaving only gloomy weather.
who is this figure of ruination you speak so gravely of?
myself, of course,
because of the things i did for love.
YOU ARE READING
𝐓𝐈𝐏 𝐎𝐅 𝐌𝐘 𝐓𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐔𝐄, poetry
Poetryeverything I want to say is at the tip of my tongue... original poetry cover by ( @voidslunatic )
