This is not poetry.
This is just me saying I fucking tried.
I know you expect this to be some deep love poem
But I’ve run all dry.
You drain me of everything, my God.
You’re so self-absorbed.
But behind your beautiful facade,
You’re something to adore.
I’m the type that drowns in shallow water.
The type that says, “I’m sorry for being a bother.”
I’d apologize for the way my heart beats for you.
And the way I kissed you in Heartbreak Avenue.
Don’t use that to your advantage.
Because, baby, I know your type.
You scare me with possibilities, but I’m also enchanted-
with just how much I want to cave into your lies.
I’ve been spending time admiring the cracks in sidewalks.
Spending time to smell the forest fires that linger in the air.
Spending time to write, “You never loved me” in ivory chalk.
But now it’s time to write, “And you never cared.”
I love imperfections and things that prove I’m not always numb.
And you did that for me. You were my burning sun.
You dried out all the leaves on my limbs.
And had me on fire like the result of your sins.