The bottle of your love,
you no longer want to feed.
The evening ocean in your eyes
are done lulling me to sleep.
Your freckled kisses
grew tired of my blush,
and you grew deaf
in time for me to dub you my crush.
I'm no longer wanted,
for your soul's decrepit,
though having been restored
in my dreams and thoughts, don't forget.
But you seem to know everything
despite having my heart on a string.
I'm no longer wanted to you,
but to me you just grew.
YOU ARE READING
indoors.
PoetryWhat's a college junior to do when her young adulthood has been robbed of a rainbow of events, support, more than one tight bond, and life lessons? The birth of this collection of poetry.
