i loved a girl named nicole
she said she wanted to get to know me
but she somehow robbed me of my existence.
she was the closest thing i had to alive
and i used to picture myself up at night
watching her fall asleep in the ocean sheets next to me,
but i never got what i wanted
though i somehow have always had what i've needed.
she felt a distance in our hearts because i couldn't bear to let mine go,
we didn't share a connection but we felt one for each other;
she was a mess in public
and would never let me help her.
i wrote about how we walked until we wanted to run,
to let the ground grow into the soles of our feet,
to watch our lungs scream and plead on their knees,
bruised,
from dropping to the floor in worship of you.
to catch our breath
like how i once tried
to grab your hand when you drifted away,
until we almost died;
until we survived .
nicole,
what have you done to me?
YOU ARE READING
horribly beautiful ✔️
Poetrypeople write about things that do not happen. they will romanticize this world in hopes of filling themselves up. they write like their words are food. but i have always written to empty myself completely. i will romanticize feeling nothing. jun...
