la poeta muerta.

i never thought you and i would ever click

but we did you see

i never meant to fall for you either

so i wonder if you fell for me

since we’re touching souls and skin every weekend possible

hiding our tension and lust in that room

waiting for it to be saturday soon

so you can finally use me like an object

yet you’re soft after

holding me with such delicacy and adoration but i do not object

you’re making me cry dear… all for the wrong reasons

forcing me to apologize when i want that apology you’re so begging for

you’re toxic

my eyes hurt from wailing your name

im frail from the dolourous drift you made

to a land heard from the desert

your bags packed and you’re gone just in a blink

when i look down i see your name imprinted

on the same shoes i wore when i ran away with you

the faded red ones just like your lips

that i wish i butterflied that day

like my hand that was in yours

before i lament into spring

goodbye dear