It's four in the morning
And I can see the daylight breaking
As I lay vulnerable on your bare chest
Your crooked tattoo permanent from haze
Traced by my little finger
But do you treat me like the others
Did the others get to lay their head on you
Or place gentle kisses up to your ears
Do you really love me
Large arms so capable of holding
Knowing just when to push me or
Making me flinch in just the right way
His big hands always
Playing games in my hair
So easily curl into a fighter's fist
When there's always another way
It's hard to believe
That your love is so true
When it has two sharp edges
When I can see both sides of your passion
Both targeted at me
Am I just a toy to you like the others
Do you keep me around for company
Or because you can't get rid of me
You want me to go
Then why am I still stuck in your arms
Pushed to the ground or caught
Holding my sleeping body on the couch
Was I just a challenge
As you do nothing to keep me
But tell me the reasons you love me
And ask to fuck for the second time
Never acting out of love
So the four in the morning thoughts
Leave me struck down and stuck
To loving a man that will probably
Never love me back
YOU ARE READING
The Poetry Collection [Editing]
PoetryA soulful recollection and philosophies on life from a young, femme, punk poet. Poems ranging from when I was still in school, moving out, exploring the world for the first time, moving through the years, until now, being an independent artist and b...
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