I still use the glass
The one you shattered that I
Picked up and glued back
It leaks slowly as
I sip at the red wine, drain
My bleeding glass heart
Thoughts of if you're real
I'm not using my brain and
I'm making the bed
Nice guys don't exist
I say but want to believe
Nice guys don't do what
You do with my head
I'd love for you to see my
Caring qualities
How I'd take good care
Of your tender thoughts and you
Wouldn't do it back
Never use your words
Against you even if you
Probably would but
I guess that's okay
Because nice guys don't exist
At least not for me
The foster you keep
But never forever and
Even then I'd still
Hold you in my thoughts
With my rose colored lenses
Till the view gets cracked
YOU ARE READING
VʋƖղҽɾαɓιƖιƭყ
PoesíaA series of personal haikus filled with love, heartbreak, trauma, life lessons, and in the moment spontaneous poems. TW: Some suicide & assault. I'll mark them with ⚠︎︎ in the title. Just skip them if you're not comfortable with them.
