You’ve always had a way of making me feel small.
It doesn’t matter the distance, you can change everything with just one call.
Your words defy space, they crash through every wall.
You hold all the power, you have the ability to ruin it all.
I can never feel tall.
Your voice in my head makes me stall.
No matter what, you’ll always make sure I fall,
or falter.
Why am I always something to be altered?
–S.
Okay,
I’m leaving.
I guess it just wasn’t our season.
Wrong person.
Wrong time.
I drown myself in an ocean of reasons.
–S.
Are you Frankenstein, a zombie, or a ghoul?
I’m a lovesick fool.
Are you a chainsaw wielding killer or a vampire?
I’m romantic satire.
Are you a character from a cartoon or a movie?
I’m feeling more Beast, less Beauty.
Are you supposed to be alive or dead?
I’m filled with dread.
Are you covered in blood or guts?
I feel like I’m covered in cuts.
–S.
I was always too deep for a love so shallow.
I was always too deep for a person so hollow.
I was always too deep for you to swallow.
I’ll still be too deep for you tomorrow,
and you’ll always be the boy filled with nothing but sorrow.
–S.
You were always leaving.
We didn’t even last four seasons.
Looking for reasons,
for your treason.
You were always leaving,
Now it’s time for some grieving.
–S.
My favorite number is eleven.
You left me on the seventh.
Back to one,
only a pair has two.
My birthday month is May.
Oh, five.
No rhyming words or equations could ever have made you stay.
–S.
I wait for you.
Like I think I’m supposed to.
You dropped me off one day,
and now it’s way past curfew.
Days pass, weeks, and eventually months too.
I sit like I’m in a church pew.
Who is coming for my rescue?
Am I still on your menu?
If you’ve crossed the ocean,
I can make it by canoe.
I wait for you.
Like I thought I was supposed to.
You were never coming back, were you?
–S.
In a field of sunflowers,
I let you go.
In a field of sunflowers,
I let the hurt flow.
In a field of sunflowers,
I grieve and I grow.
In a field of sunflowers,
I begin to glow.
In a field of sunflowers,
I let you go.
–S.
One wrong move and it’s all tumbling down.
52 cards, face down, on the ground.
Your love has always been conditional.
I guess, that’s what we kept traditional.
It’s never been the most sturdy.
You’re always assessing me in a hurry.
I can never be anything new –
because what you thought of me,
was the only thing that could ever be true.
–S.
The reality,
of this catastrophe,
is you’re bad for me,
but I don’t want to be set free.
–S.
The Messy Middle 🖤 