I am sulphur, but I have lost my mind, I cannot be struck, because strike they have done all the time. I was once a brief light in the dark, illuminating a world of all black.
I am fine being clothed in darkness, but it is you I want back. I think back to the time when things were once nice. I know I messed up, I messed up thrice. I used to feel cold, cold like ice, but you made me feel loved, and that was nice. I awoke one night, to realize I wasn't loved, all the words and things you said were just deceptions of the tongue. Rhetoric, lies, and a match that was misused. I was struck every morning, and mentally abused. I thought we were friends and my loneliness was quelled, but how I was wrong and now my happiness has been expelled. At times I must say, I do miss your voice, but I do not want to miss you, at least not by choice. The more I think, the more I realize, I don't want you back, because all of those were real lies. It's hard to trust someone who DOSENT feel. Do you think this is fantasy? Or do you think this is real? I know you have problems, but so do I. Look at me and say sorry! Look me in the eye!
YOU ARE READING
The Assorted Poems
PoetryLucien LeSchants gives another glimpse into the real world, one that is without filter, in his second micro collection: "The Assorted Poems"
