When I came to your house
I was wearing grey,
I walked through your front door there was was nothing to say.
Exchanged a few hi's and you were ready for action
A few minutes of pain to your satisfaction.
It was quick
I was easy
It was all my fault
A year later and my hair started to molt
I told you and begged you that I wanted more
Only to see your friends who had called me a whore
I felt sick
I felt tired
Past my sell by date expired
I felt comfort in food, I felt comfort in sex
Even comfort in texting my female friend's ex
We went to a few gatherings
I've seen you since
It was two days after march sixteenth
About the Creator
Analeelaa x
A piece of me can help a piece of you.
Poetry is my release from reality.
All images that are attached to my poems are my own
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