but even if you come back soon, don't except for my field of wisteria to bloom.
i suffered enough from the potion you made with your lies flying like flies inside my mind.
but what hurts me a lot is that you never knew i suffered, not even a little.
i posted some signs but seems like it's not your cup of coffee, you just waited and waited for it to cool down.
you stand up tall like a man but lying is a crime, but you're also a pretender.
and even if you come back soon, i'll be in my field of wisteria blooming and thanking my soul because i grew from the drama.
and without you, i feel like breathing again.
YOU ARE READING
Desperate Nightmares, Old Habits Die: Prose and Poetry
Poetryi live in a poetic life but dying from your poisonous lies. we live in vain, so we drink until we get drunk in our own mistakes and sins. but still making out with the devils, but in the back of my mind, i'm with you - haunting me stunningly.
