i love writing poetry
but there's no flavor
when's there's no a lover
to put the flavor
i have major stories
i've got no missus
no infidelities histories
what about our vowed, rendezvous?
i'm ready for our trysts
and our unpaid dues
but instead built an abode
while i'm still on your ol' pad
i was crazy
i was insane
for God's sake
for years i have never;
made any aesthetics
i love writing poetry
when i was with you
but when you left
i watch our pottery
shattered into pieces
there was no flavor
i was in your favor
but all of that labor
i felt you murdered me
YOU ARE READING
sleepless nights
PoetryEvery night, I think, I write and cry. All of my sleepless nights, I became more productive, self-harming, leaving scars on me. After all of that, I realized and told myself, "Do you think all of that was worth it?" While my tears crawling down my f...
