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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.
Copyright ©
Colbi Hagan
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