we have all these secret codes.
you're my lamb
you protected me,
like jesus supposedly
protected his followers,
and you made sacrifices
for me,
like jesus supposedly did
for his followers,
(i suppose most lamb metaphors
relate to the bible.
because you remind me
of a goddess — cheesy),
and you knew
what to do with me
when i was vulnerable
as a child speaker
would.
and, now,
im watching your slaughter.
we were a garden of roses.
vibrant
beautiful
colors with so much depth
layers of inside jokes
and tension
and adoration
and that type of
chemistry that you find
only once in a lifetime,
but full of thorns
and badly tended,
with weeds that
sucked the life from our
vibrant
beautiful
roses.
and it's not just that.
nose game.
hecko spegecko.
the fucking
flirting
that we never
took further
but maybe
we should have
and maybe
that's just me
and maybe
that's the reason we never
went past flirting
because you didn't want
what i do
but all these fucking inside jokes
and metaphors
that we use
to beat around the issues
and that we spent so much time
inventing
we forgot to tend those roses
we forgot to fucking love each other
and that's why our roses
started sprouting
so many
thorns.
but
there are roses
that grow
without them.
YOU ARE READING
secrets.
PoésieI am not happy. I don't know if I've ever been, or if I ever will be. Plenty of shit has happened to me, but plenty of shit has happened to everyone so I shouldn't feel special. I just wish I didn't have a normal person's life. I wish I didn't have...
