47.) bitter

22 5 32
                                    

(This is my 400th poem. It was written before 'Sunshine in Spring' and 'Peonies in Summer', so this is in fact officially my 400th poem).

They say you need a best friend
but whenever
I try to get together
they've got excuses that never seem to end.

It's alright, I'm used to being lonely,
but manically happy
nevertheless.
You thought I'd die but here I am sat on a throne in my fortress.

Bet you wish you were like me, independent, competent, never phased.
Burning bright like a star or sun, freaking blazed.
Never dopey or dreaming, never dizzy or dazed.

I know it's only my second week,
but never again will I be meek.
No, now I am a stalker, relentless.
A wraith or ghost, scentless.

I better get what I came for,
and if I leave hearts and minds sore,
excuse me passively
while I walk on casually.

Maybe if I drown myself in glitter
I'll seem a lot less bitter.
With glitter that shimmers and shines
brighter than gemstones from fifty goldmines.
But darker on the inside like an icy cave.
Darker on the inside like a cemetery or grave.
︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎
     𖦊 𐀔 𐃸    𖦊  ʊ
      .   .      .   .
                    
 
  . .
  . .
                 
.
. .

Shards of Sugar (2022 - 2023) | PoetryWhere stories live. Discover now