Tell me no.
Tell me your love is selfish,
And that you can not share with me.
Tell me that you stopped listening,
Not because you couldn't hear me,
But because you realized,
I wasn't worth listening.
Tell me you need me to leave,
That I'm not wanted here.
Tell me I'm the problem,
And there's no future where you see me in it.
Tell me you can do better.
Tell me it was just a joke that you took too far, And you're ready for it to be over.
Tell me you don't want me,
That you never did.
Tell me that every time your eyes,
Laid upon mine,
They trailed down to my body,
And that you never looked back up.
That you only loved to look at my figure,
But not what was inside.
That you wanted to explore my skin,
Not because I trusted you enough to do so.
But because it brought you self pleasure.
My pleasure was just in addition.
Tell me you used me to satisfy your lust.
That it was just lust that you used me for.
Tell me there was never love.
Tell me and then tell me again.
So that I can see the image that you see.
So that I can paint the picture,
Like Picasso to detail.
So that I can paint the picture without me in it. That you'd look at it and agree.
That there was never any love for me.
Tell me your underlying truth,
So that I can see it as my truth.
That I'm not needed.
The picture was perfect with just you.
YOU ARE READING
She.
PoetryPoetry, scenes and short stories written from the fingertips of a girl who doesn't know her own heart. She's filled each corner with love and light that she thought was pure just to watch it rot off and fill like a gaping dark hole. But these heartb...
