That is what he named me,
Sometimes as potterhead queen,
Adoring his personalities,
Of golden in the sequence of honesty.
It leaves scars on my heart,
It's like being stabbed by a dart,
Right in the bull's-eye,
He did it well, yes i don't lie.
His pretty words keep replaying in my mind,
Even in the midst of flatline,
I'm not afraid anymore,
I keep them going with the flow.
I am now the victim,
Of his compact schedule,
Guess im not the only one,
As long as he is having fun.
I felt like they don't exist,
I see no sign even track of feet,
As I walk behind them in the beach,
The land was clear as bleach.
I D K
What im feeling.
YOU ARE READING
Indelible
PoetryJust some underrated poems of my own. Written in the mean time before hitting the hay. chapters of love chapters of anxiety chapters of heartbreaks
