i found it ironic
how in the end
you weren't the one to kill me
you've always been my poison ivy, my kryptonite, my only weakness
but not loving a person back can mess with their head
and that is how I found myself
crying on the bathroom floor at 4am
trying my hardest not to think of you
and our first kiss
and how you pulled away after a few moments
and how we never talked on the phone
unless I started the conversation
and how you threw away the daisies I gave you on our first date
but despite all of my efforts
you were the last thing to go through my mind
apart from the bullet, of course
•
YOU ARE READING
dark poems
Poetrythis seems like poetry and prose sometimes it's more than you'd suppose see, what my mind creates, goes but what that is, nobody knows
