To the boy who says he loves me,
Oh the heart that aches as my soul spends nights and days longing to be intwined with one diverse.One without the cage beholding the organ of sorrow delineated in a grievous baby blue.
Oh the body that trembles I can feel the Pangaea inside me, as I can sense the atom of my better half making way.As the chess piece slides across the game board... CHECKMATE! Still no mate...
Oh how my hands hurt from the constant illustration of breakage,My fingertips bleeding sadness as the love letters I fail to send are being torn.Receiving paper cuts from the sharp words oozing inside me
Love,Love,love the word love coursing through my veins.If only I could unplug my mind..stop the word "love" and the memorized;
"Roses are red,
Violets are blue
I.L,L,Love you"
If only there were caution tape around my lips for love escapes causing damage.Love is nothing but heart eyes behind a trigger,Traffic cones around my ribs.Sign that reads "construction workers ahead" each man fixing the potholes in my soul.
Strings of my heart being torn. Silly game of Rock,paper,scissors SHOOT! Sticks and stones may break my bones,but love hurts just as much.
Love is the constant mirror of self hate, feelings of an hourglass tipped over up in flames.Clock run backwards,now lost for words.Each organ within me suffocating. Every inhale, exhale, my heart remains in jail.
You handed me the tool to escape such penitentiary, yet you committed the crime.Making dirty words sound sublime.
Oh how my heart beat sings uncertainty. Mind a lie detector test questioning..."Am I supposed to be in love by now?" Love is a self injection of sorrow,dismay.Never ending line at the checkout buying bottle prescriptions.200 milligrams of sanity and solitude. Causing an overdose of emotions.
When such horrific scene leaves,tranquility enters.
My thoughts return to a time when love never existed.A time where you never existed. Life was beautiful and quiet,Afternoons spent playing in the sandbox and swinging on a swing set.Allowing the breeze to kiss my face and unfurl my hair.
But Here I am at my local bar,swinging my body for the man I thought loved me.So tell me..am I supposed to be in love by now?
It's what you do to me. Like the smoke,you linger on me. I, an asthmatic breathing in your damaged promises.The problem is, As one breathes out toxic waste,I inhale the debris. To cover up the damage That i bleed. Turning such pain into flowing poetry.
Although Something about you Is so healing Within the haze, As we discuss And dream Of better days,Better ways to feed My soul draining addiction.
On a psychedelic mission. Only altering my vision.My body turning into your very own private island,Where we stay for a while and drown in the silence.You're walking poetry,My body your Caribbean sea.As we remake the story of the "birds and the bees" and emote to the rhythmic sways of the palm trees.Our minds mixed together like one fucked up painting.Only to wake,and realize you're draining my colors.
Yours truly,
The girl who loves
