your face
looking into you
into your face
no longer brings
a feeling of awe
but instead
a dreadful feeling
of mourning
of what was real
in my liking
but are now
dead as my hopes
at the twist
of your fingers
YOU ARE READING
poetry
Poetrypoetry with no rhyme or rain most of these r rlly old and embarrassing but im keeping them for the lore
