I wish that I could be romantic;
talk about things
in reams of paper
with dramatic emphasis
on things that made
dreams feel so real, but
You took that from me when
you left shards of scattered debris,
and everything moved
in slow motion
there was no sound.
Other than the loud,
thundering pound
of my heart in my ears as
the darkness consumed You.
Making me feel like I was of no use
Making me feel like I was of no use
Making me feel like I was of no use
Like I was,
I was of no use to you,
or anyone else.
YOU ARE READING
For You
PoesíaThis is for you. If you're seeing this, I hope you read it. A collection of my poetry. Ongoing.
