suburban legends, ᴛᴀʏʟᴏʀ ꜱᴡɪꜰᴛ, 00.16
would a country love the king
who impeached his own reign?
to you, i was but a worthless thing,
and kindnesses can be easy to feign.
my castle was paper, you were midnight rain,
a gentle heart is a heavy burden.
your wine and my blood has left a stain,
i write my regrets with a dried-out pen.
bandaged my own bullet holes,
but new love sewed them up.
he plays and has played a much bigger role,
he helped me refill my fractured cup.
i love him for who he is,
not because i couldn't have you.
cupid let my arrow miss,
for admiring you made me a fool.
you're in the prologue, he's my happy ending,
the streets are wide, don't creep through the alleys.
you were something, but you weren't my everything,
so let it go, let me love in peace.
please.
YOU ARE READING
[14] - monday's child.
Poetry𝘰𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘶𝘱𝘰𝘯 𝘢 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦, 𝘢 𝘱𝘰𝘦𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘣𝘰𝘳𝘯, 𝘧𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘵𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴 𝘢𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘮𝘰𝘯𝘥𝘢𝘺 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘯, 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘭𝘺 𝘢𝘴 𝘢 𝘳𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘯𝘴. original poetry i wrote at fourteen.