Vent Poems

Two: Cold feet

They've done me dirty again. They told me they liked me, But here I am sitting in this bed crying while they are with someone else.

It always happen

But the way you looked at me, the tension in the air when we were in a room. It felt like words didn't even compare to the body language we had together, it was desire and angst in one.

You made me feel something different from the others. Yet you ignored me later on and so did I.

It got cold. Nearly to the point of hatred but I couldn't dare hate you even if you couldn't look me in the eye anymore.

And like every time I run back to you when you treat me like this. Like no one. Like I meant nothing to you. But she did... didn't she?