Warnings: Severe Stockholm syndrome
The roses are dead
The violets are too
Yet still they look nice
When they come from you
There is no life here
It all is quite bleak
With my hazy mind
You're all that I seek
You hold me so close
I think I feel safe
Though some part of me
Does strangely chafe
I thought there was more
That there was once green
But dark greys and blacks
Are all that I've seen
He says we're in love-
Each time that we kiss
So why do I flinch
When he calls me 'his'?
YOU ARE READING
Poems to Leave Streaks of Ink
PoetryAnd I'd rage at the monsters, But that's the task of fools, Who cannot bring themselves to know, Monsters are humans' tools... I write poems like this, just usually longer...feel free to give some of them a read:)
