Posted in Blog, Creative Writing, Pride Month 2022, Writing

Toyed With

I had to hold myself back from screaming your name to the passing stars.
Wishes may be for fishes,
and I may be a child of the sea,
but that doesn’t mean I want to fall for this, again.

War is over,
blah blah blah,
soon, summer will be too,
and they say that sadness is just a state of mind,
but you don’t mind watching me cry myself to sleep.
I make my own reality but I can’t make you mean less,
so you lean into all my thoughts,
interrupting while I’m trying to intervene in yet another self destructive sequence of events.

Now,
here I am,
addicted,
because you’re laced with something secret,
and it’s a shock to my system to sustain these feelings for so long,
when I have been long rumoured to be the kind of girl who can’t keep it up very long.
I think that is a lie, that my lovers told themselves,
so that they’d feel less guilt about picking me up and placing me on the shelf,all alone, as they wandered out the door,
still hearing my heart break and beg for their return.

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