Photo by Damian Gadal
I told myself I'd stop writing about you
Yet here we are
I'm still pouring my heart into
This broken jar
You made me feel as if I had worth
You healed my scars
Yet when traveling forth
I am behind bars
You imprisoned me
A slave to your love
Love that I'd never see
A scarce little drug
I've written so much
Oh don't you know
Just at your touch
I'd start to glow
But now you're with him
And I with none
You brought me in
But now you're done
Bored of me you found another
I was nothing so now I pother
A feather whisped away
as your selfishness caused my dismay
Like
Share
About the Creator
Indecisive inconvenience
Pain is gender neutral.
My name's Shawn, I'm 19, and I never learned how to write poetry.
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.