I placed the band-aids
On every gash,
On every open wound
Left by every painful slash.
I licked my wounds
And kept to my self,
Putting the memories
By my pride, on the shelf.
Before I was sure
I was doing all better,
You came along
With that touching love letter.
You told me lies,
Making me trust you.
I ignored all the warnings,
Telling me not to.
I was comfortable with you
And I guess I should have seen it coming,
When you tore off my band-aids,
The pain strong and painfully stunning.
Since then I've needed
More band-aids and more tissues.
I was too eager to be cared for,
And now I have trust issues.
YOU ARE READING
When Happy People Cry
PoésieA collection of mostly melancholy (and at times excessively weird) poems.. and by the way, although the poems are mine, the cover art isn't and I just thought I'd say so.
