journal one ↴
it's like being ripped
and torn
petals stripped
from a rose
myself
in shreds
thanks to
you
↴
you seem to
smudge
my future and hopes
with your lace gloves
contrasting my black ink
that you can't
handle
↴
and although you
claim
it's for my best
these tears detest
your concept of
best
↴
by the time i return
she won't remember me
my language foreign to
her ears
and hers to mine
all because of
you
⇀
