When I told you I liked to be hurt
I meant consensually.
I did not say
"break my spirits"
I did not say
"sleep with those girls"
Maybe you misheard me.
Maybe I wasn't clear with my intentions.
I wanted you to be a safe space.
Instead, you became a rotting pothole
of self doubt
and insecurity.
Maybe if I look prettier
in the mirror we're both staring into
my words will then be enunciated.
Maybe my message will come through.
But you are still simply staring at a body,
while I am staring at you.
-
Author:
V (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: January 17th, 2022 22:29
- Comment from author about the poem: No note to self on this one, written with too much rage and spontaneity.
- Category: Reflection
- Views: 14
Offline)
Comments1
'I wanted you
to be a safe space
instead
you became a rotting pothole
of self doubt
and insecurity.'
print this on t-shirts, sale them
and go fund your next holiday! lol
make them Pay, that way
revenge is a dish, best served
with a hardened heart's, cold currency!
“Revenge is a dish
Best served
With a hardened heart’s
Cold currency”
Now THAT needs to be on a t-shirt. Well put, my friend.
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