You used to joke around and go on about how
If the sky fell from the earth you and I would build our home in outer space
Where no one can find us
You promised me that you'd escape
The dungeons of your mind because you had me now...
And you no longer had to fight alone
But, I should've known
By the way you tumbled your thumbs
And by the look on your face
When you told me that you would keep me safe
The day after you showed up to my front door
In a blinding rage,
The day you made me feel so
small.....
Your demons became mine, I became the person you wanted to create
Ultimately, it was my price to pay
I knew this when I watched you walk away unscathed
Without a single loss
Your eyes looked more numb than I could have ever imagined
And for the first time I realized you carry no compassion
For me, nor us
And all that talk about trust
Never existed,
You brewed up sweet words that tasted like apple cider
And I believed you when you told me to drink it up as if it were not poison
You talked about building a life that neither of us had but it was mine you were destroying
The only thing you really did was leave me
exploited.
YOU ARE READING
spilled ink.
Puisipoetry (/ˈpōətrē/) - words spilling onto paper in the form of emotions. creating an outlet for themselves; turning abstract emotions into a tangible mental image. poetry is not meant to be read, it is meant to be felt. *all written content is orig...
