Crying yourself to sleep at night,
It's not a fun business.
I don't want to say a word,
A word is bad.
A word is vile,
Especially against someone you love.
It hurts to play,
It hurts to watch.
I don't want to get that box,
The silver with ends of red,
Rivers and blossoms,
Love and hate.
I love her,
I love her.
I love her, don't I?
That's why I won't say a word.
I love her,
I do so.
I won't speak badly,
Not a whisper.
I love her,
I love her.
Not a trigger, not a trigger.
I promise.
She is good,
She is precious.
She is my unicorn.
-Sara Chaney, August 2017
YOU ARE READING
The Dark Poems In My Head
PoetryThis is those little whispering poems that weasel their way into my wonderful brain. Don't know how this'll turn out, but, you know how it goes! Lets try something new! It is mature because some of this shit is bad! Extremely! Not sexual, but words...
