It's been three years,
And here I am again,
Writing poems
About you.
It's as if I haven't learned
From what you've done
To me,
From what you've done
To others.
I say I'm over it,
And yet,
I get jealous when you talk
About other girls.
Yes she's pretty,
Yes she's funny.
But all I want to hear
You say is,
Am I pretty?
Am I funny?
Am I good enough for you?
All I want to do
Is leave these
Reminiscent feelings behind.
Because even though
You're the boy I've come closest
To actually loving,
You're also the boy
Who shattered my heart,
All those years ago.
It's been three years,
And all I want to do,
Is to stop writing about you.
-10/23/2017
YOU ARE READING
My Little Black Book of Thoughts
RandomA collection of poems, prose, and random thoughts by a girl who just loves to write. ••• All rights reserved, aka please don't steal my work 🖤
