I hated the feeling of you being there, your existence eating me from the inside out.
You were labeled as a grunge
A nobody
I was determined to show you were different, but in the good way.
I fell in love with you.
Your weird idea that the stars aligned
I loved how you laughed, how you would only laugh for me.
God your big smile, everytime we hugged it was like melting in blankets.
You were a grunge.
I didn't like you.
No one did.
How could I let myself fall for such an emotional monster?
I call you a grunge, because you were scum. Aesthetically pleasing, no good, worn out, pastel shoes. You reminded me of a child who laughed at another falling and skidding his knees.
A grunge.
Why were you labeled as that?
A psychomaniac, suicidal psychopath.
Your taste in music was loud and your hair was never combed. You were grunge.
Far from perfect.
Far from sober.
A grunge
YOU ARE READING
My poems
RandomI will write my deepest, saddest thoughts here. Warning, you may cry, or scream, or tell someone you love them more then ever. But please don't be angry with me.
