¿ poetry ?

art

things were going well,
for you.
i on the other hand,
was slowly sinking.
you didn't seem to notice.
in fact, you were falling in love with me.
silly you.

you told me i was like an abstract painting,
or a song with lyrics you don't quite understand.
i guess that was your way of telling me that i was complicated.
but that didn't stop you.

you told me you loved me on a cold tuesday night.
i told you that you didn't love me.
and of course, you asked why.
why did you have to ask me that?

so i explained,
how could you love me if even i don't love me.
you told me that it was ok,
i was broken and you were willing to fix me.

but im not your fucking art project.
you can't glue me back together again.
a.f