The day I left was not really when I left
I stayed back just for a while
To see if she would need me again
She had created in me this desire
To always be there for her
It was like a drug
To try to please her
Every time it wore off
I needed another hit to just keep going
Going on that fantasy that she needed me to stay alive
That I was the one to make her whole
It was the Saviour Complex
YOU ARE READING
The Sunflower
PoetryI asked her why she was crying She said, "How else do you expect me to water myself?" This short collection of poems tells the story of personal growth and the emotional consequences of its achievement. Maybe you are the sunflower, or perhaps you m...
