How do you know you were in love?
That's the funny thing.
Because I don't.
Who does really?
What does it even mean to be in love?
Maybe it's the
Changing perspectives
And lingering questions
Thoughts that kill the curious cat cautiously coinciding within the impulsive urge to dig a deeper hole
All of the excuses I made to keep going
and prolong my suffering
for the price of holding on
Or maybe it's all the movies I haven't seen and shows I can't watch
Holding back
Not allowing myself to
Because of some unspoken vow
Because I am
Was
Supposed to be watching with you
the flashes of memories I get
the flood of warmth; found hardly lukewarm but the mind twists what little pleasure we get into a mountain of treasure when desperate times call for desperate measure
pretending I'm back in the good times
being held
being listened to
Followed by frequent sprees of anger and anguish
wanting delete the pictures
wanting to burn the letters
wanting to take down the drawings
wanting to donate the gifts
Still having everything stashed away by my bed
Unable to face them
though I see them everyday
Unable to purge them from my life
though they are consuming it whole
How do you feel now?
Empty.
But I wouldn't change my decision
I just wish to understand
And to be able to feel love once again
~S~
YOU ARE READING
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PoesíaA poem book with original poems written by me. Covers a variety of different topics as it is a representation of life as I live and experience it. [Poems that aren't mine will credit the original author] //tw//: self harm, depression, suicidal tho...
