I let you hurt me.
I was numb, so I wanted to feel.
I let you hurt me.
It was wrong, but I wanted it still.
I let you hurt me.
You moved on, but I don’t think I will.
–S.
Tag: rhyming-words
Pick-up Truck.
All of this shit gets heavy.
I could fill up the back of a chevy.
I could use a pick up,
a lift up.
All of this shit gets heavy.
It could overflow a levee.
I could use a hand,
in the flooding.
I thought it was real,
and it wasn’t.
–S.
Learning.
I learned that it never turns out how you think it will.
I learned that there are still moments that can make time stand still.
I learned that death can happen on selfish hill.
I learned that with certain people you can never quite get your fill.
–S.
Cheesecake.
Over a slice of cheesecake, I’m reminded of all of the love we didn’t get to make.
Over a slice of cheesecake, I’m reminded of all of the sweetness we didn’t get to taste.
Over a slice of cheesecake, I’m reminded of all of the pictures we didn’t get to take.
Over a slice of cheesecake, I’m reminded of heartache.
–S.
Flare Gun.
We’re the only survivors,
in the wreckage of you and I.
Red flare shot into the sky.
Lit up all the pain,
surprised I didn’t die.
SOS,
we made a fucking mess.
We’re the only survivors,
in the wreckage of you and I.
–S.
It feels like.
Sometimes it feels like all the goodness in the world couldn’t eradicate the darkness inside of me.
Sometimes it feels like all the lenses in the world couldn’t help me see.
Sometimes it feels like all the meditation in the world wouldn’t let me be.
Sometimes it feels like there is no free.
–S.
Give ‘Em Hell.
Longing,
rhymes with belonging,
and prolonging,
too.
All words that I’d connect with you.
I was fawning and then it was dawning,
that I was bombing.
and wronging,
everything all to hell.
–S.
What are your plans for today?
I’m headed to the movies,
seat G4 or maybe two,
I’m staring at the back of their heads,
isn’t that what all normal people do?
It’s like I’m in a back pew,
watching love in open-view,
but I’m just the girl in G2.
–S.
Self-Compassion.
The counselor tells me I should show myself grace.
The idea makes my heart race.
Could it really help erase,
thirty-three years of self-hate?
–S.
True Love.
Is it true, love?
There’s someone new, love.
I’ve been thinking about you, love.
I was still thinking it was you, love.
I still want to talk to only you, love.
Is she picking something blue, love?
Does she perform on cue, love?
Does everything still feel new, love?
You never left my view, love.
I’m sitting in the pew, love.
Praying you weren’t through, love.
There’s nothing left to do, love.
I guess it’s true, love.
It’s true love.
–S.
The Messy Middle 🖤 