Way of my soul || Poetry

XLVIII. used to it

Missing the feeling of your
soft gaze
when you were a part
of my days

And I miss how you'd
always look after me
ensuring I'm always
happy

And I'll gladly

get fooled with another lie
and when you
leave me I won't
ask you why

I'll paint your red flags
green my dear
and Gaslight comfort
from fear
as long as you'realways near
as long as you're
always here

I'll colour our gray skies
in warm sunset hues
and brighten up
all ourblues

I'll trick myself into seeing rainbows in our
thunderstorms
and won't bother
at your various shapes
and forms

I'll walk on those warning nails on our floors
and pretend they're all closed, our bad fates doors

I'll take your blood
stained hands my dear
and call it strawberry pureé
as long as you come
back and never go away
as long as you make me feel whole like you did everyday

And what about
how much I've
cried when I had you?

What about my
health that subsequently
got worse?

What about how bad I hurt?

What about it my dear?
you already killed
me without a spear
you already broke
me one too many times
I'm just used to
these melancholic rhymes