11:45pm, april 25 2018
woke up with an ache,
the pain in my head
stemming from realization
that it really did happen.
you weren't mine for long
but this dull stab
still insists that tears
must have fallen for hours;
i never thought i could get so weak,
and it's all you.
maybe this is our worst idea yet,
dragging this out as we have -
but i wouldn't have it any other way.
Lord knows, it wouldn't be me
if i let this end with minimal misery.
YOU ARE READING
do you think he sees me as just a pretty face?
Poetrysad sap space babe poetry, 2017-2018 'cause writing it out is medicinal. do you think all he sees is a pretty face, or is that too conceited of me to say? at this point maybe that's the best that it gets.
