~~~~~~~~
You may have thought
I am made of steel.
My heart is.
My brain is.
You may have thought
I could cope.
I wouldn't mind.
I didn't love you enough.
But I think
You do this on purpose.
You try to hurt me.
You like to torture me.
But I don't know why.
Can't you just release me
from the jail I've been lately?
Can't you just get out of my heart?
Can you stop looking at me with triumph
And can you just kill the butterflies
I have been feeling anytime I see you?
I hate them,
I hate you.
I hate the feeling called love
And also pain.
I hate what you do to me,
I hate what I do myself.
I hate this.
Please, for once,
Stop being stubborn and end this.
~~~~~~~~
YOU ARE READING
White Memories of A Black Life
Poetry"I have never tasted the brightness of yellow, the calmness of blue, the cheer of green or the love of red. I felt something; still do I, but never related to colours. I only know the pureness of white and the mystery of black. Oh, and grey. For mos...
