Would you still love me if one of my wings were torn and I couldn't fly?
If I opened up to shelter you from rain but the little hole I have from wear and tear let the rain trickle onto your shoulder?
Would you still love me if I still worked and lit the end of your joints, but you had to spark me a few times before I caught my flame?
Would you love me like a poorly rolled joint, where you know you need a fix but each hit irritates you because you find yourself spitting out little granules of bud? A happy inconvenience.
Would you love me like we loved PS2 games that required a few hot breaths and half-hearted prayers before the loading screen appeared and you could finally play the game you wanted so desperately?
Would you still love me knowing I have all these fears and insecurities? Knowing I need your reassurance, always.
Can you love me knowing I'm broken?
YOU ARE READING
Pink Blunts - Poetry
PoetryPink Blunts is a collection of my minds ideas. Let's say I'm trying to make sense of my brains none sense! Whether high or sober, our hearts and minds never stop wanting... wanting more in life, more love, hatred, lust and other things. We're all...
