you felt the need to cut me deep
to see if I would bleed.
I guess that I'm the monster,
that's how you always saw me.
our love starting out smooth sailing;
it sung like a sweet melody.
it was all chocolate and roses,
I suppose all sweets turn sour eventually.
c.d.
a/n: I haven't written a poem like this for a while, but I actually like this one. The first stanza just came to me one day and I just wrote 3 to match it and here we are.
YOU ARE READING
1:46 a.m.
PoetryA collection of poems, most written at extremely late, or should I say extremely early, times of the day, when my mind can truly bleed its thoughts onto paper.
