our love was akin to fantasy
as you swept me off my feet
my knight in shining armour
deflecting verbal projectiles
from outsiders who wanted
to break down our love
but you were seven broken colours
of the white light you pretended to be
directing me to the pot of gold coins
at the end of the splintered rainbow
but the contents were as corrupt
as your tarnished personality
you pushed me down a rabbit hole
sending me through a labyrinth
without a trail of breadcrumbs
burying my body six feet under
encasing me where no one
could hear my cries for help
you were a nightmare
concealed in a fairytale
forcing me to water your heart
as though it were a wilted rose
and it took me too long to realise
that you were just a pretty face.
YOU ARE READING
Coffee Culture
PoesieIn which tiny snippets of time are cut and pasted together. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Poetry #30 (29/01/19) © 2019 evethespy. All Rights Reserved.
