Your Love

I loved you. I really did. My poetry is about you Your face so neatly carved into my brain I can draw you from memory. You were the first to know how I felt How you tugged at my heartstrings in a way so excruciatingly painful I saw you through my rose coloured lenses and gulped down painkillers forgetting that you ever pained me. You lead me on like one of your mindless pets I would have died for you If you told me you wanted them dead they'd be dead If you told me you wanted me dead my last words would be yes sir. I want to break from your grasp Although the words you speak bring too much comfort The way you look at me The wonder in your eyes as if you never have seen my suffering or the way one could trip over themselves and sacrifice themselves as I for something like you I scavenge for the love you once gave me Trinkets that I keep in a box and at the bottom of my bag Your love is a drug My stash low I crave for every bit of love you give me It's a bad influence My memory blurry You make me sick.