ripped small letters,
deep in your bag left pocket,
pictured me and kept me in your locket,
burned me and told me "it's your fault",
tortured my wound by pouring your salt.
distance, timing, breakdown, fighting,
call me and say
"lets fix things up"
but could you try to listen to me ?
you went to houses to tell stories of
two love birds and the devil
but darling, why does the devil sounds
like me ?
YOU ARE READING
reminiscing
Poetrywriting because i dont know how to talk about my problems the old ones were poorly written
