I'm sick of the shit you put me through,
Matter of fact, I'm sick of you.
You take what you want and you leave us in the dust,
You fake what you feel and you break our trust.
I've been curled up on the bathroom floor for days,
Devastated, in and out of heartache.
My family knock on our wooden bathroom door,
My mother worries that I'm not eating.
I tell them I can't love anymore,
And that my heart has stopped beating.
My dad knocks the door down with just one punch,
And he says,
"Time for some tough love, son.
It wasn't worth a teardrop from your eye,
At least try to get by.
One year from now you won't even remember feeling so furious,
At the end of the day, it's not that serious".
I sit on my bed with gloomy thoughts hiding in my head.
I scroll through my phone staring blankly at memories of us,
Back before you traded in love for lust.
I catch myself smiling between bouts of sadness,
Because I loved you, despite all the chances.
But, maybe my family are right,
So, I'll promise myself one thing tonight:
I'll be okay without you by my side.
YOU ARE READING
storyline
Poetry'storyline' is my ninth poetry collection. Written with no concept or preconception in mind, each and every poem featured in this collection came directly from my heart. It documents everything I have experienced this summer: from love to hate, safe...
