there is no peace in loving you
i'm never sure
secure
you love me
my head's so full i can't take in new TV
i'm strained with hope
you'll love me like i do you
like you loved her
but you don't
and the rising hopes
and sharp nosedives of disappointment
every minute every day
is killing me
i'm begging
love me like i want you to
like i know you can
scoop out my brain and pour in that melted gold instead
i'll finally have peace when you do
and only then will the pain stop
please i'm begging make it stop
9/24/2021
YOU ARE READING
from the wreckage of obsolescence
Romancelove, sex and vulnerability. chapter three of an ongoing collection of poetry by a bisexual woman.
