In her two am delirium,
She filled meaningless conversations
With feelings that weren't there.
Pretending that for once
That the way she felt about him
Was the way he felt about her.
YOU ARE READING
Oleander-COMPLETED
PoesíaALL RIGHTS RESERVED Her words were like oleander flowers, so delicate, like a gossamer spider string, but poisonous, like her scarred, despondent heart. *in other words, my crap poetry that is still really important to me*
Delirium
In her two am delirium,
She filled meaningless conversations
With feelings that weren't there.
Pretending that for once
That the way she felt about him
Was the way he felt about her.
