Poetry hour- a collection of poetry

Looking back on Trent.

I remember, 17 blue dress, size 8- beautiful girl - that was me.

And you were gothic, handsome and all the artificial/ superficial things I wanted.

I knew we had a connection- but was I ever looking at your heart. I don't think so.

I was shallow and lonely in my shallow persuit for the most beautiful lover.

It left me single when so many guys walked into my life.

It made me bitter and unhinged. 

In those years I know you broke my heart-

The heart that beat in my 17 year old chest- not the same heart I have now.

I know you made me sad,

And wreckless with my choices. 

I often wonder... if we'd never talked for some time, the year after.

And I'd never wished to be your girl finally,

Would my sickness have still had you as a cameo for my psychosis?

Or would my sub-conscious not decided to fabricate those delusions.

Thoughts of dark lies that left me feeling like a freak when I recovered. 

I feel that even if I hadn't met you, I'd still have got sick.
But what would my delusions have been about?

Perhaps another handsome guy that broke my fragile heart at the time.