stockholm syndrome:
everyone tells me you're wrong.
i keep being told that you're the villain to my story.
and maybe i believe them.
maybe they're right.
but it doesn't change the fact that i still love you.
you are my captor.
you stole my heart,
my reason,
my life.
you stole it and left it to rot.
your voice is full of empty promises,
lack of effort.
you left me alone in a cage because you couldn't be bothered to care.
you don't love me.
you barely look my direction.
but i don't care.
stockholm syndrome flows through my veins,
clouds my every thought.
i'll sit in my cage and wait for you to come back.
i'll wait by your jail cell,
even though i'm the one that put you there.
i need you to come back to me.
to make your empty promises,
to tell your lies.
i need it.
i don't know what my life is without it.
YOU ARE READING
my poetry isn't real ☆
Poetry"i'm a poet in the sense that i write poetry. god awful poetry that doesn't rhyme or make sense" a collection of poems, tackling all sorts of topics, from all kinds of inspirations, from a writer who's sure his work is nothing more than pretty words.
