i haven't forgot
about our love that rot.
the times we fought
seem to be caught
in my brain, one spot.
I go without pot
just to seem taut.
my life is a plot
I had to edit and blot,
a revised play I dot.
it isn't real hot
no fairytales or yacht,
but it is truth I got
now say adieu, you lot.
the show is not
done like you thought.
YOU ARE READING
she likes the color yellow
Poetrymy soul in poem form. i'm not a good poet, but i've learned to be vulnerable.
