Ugh damn it.
You're still on
My mind.
You'd think
A month is enough,
But I'm
still
trying—
To forget our
Conversations,
How close we
Felt.
Tryna remove
You from my
Memory
But it's hard as hell.
Yet I'm still
Glad that it's
Over,
I don't really
Want you
Back.
But am I just lying
To myself
To make it
Hurt less.
Because truth is
I think
I won't find
Someone better.
But I know
That's a thought
Coming from
The devil.
So I'll continue
Pretending
I don't miss
You everyday,
I keep telling myself
After 3 months
I'll be okay.
Three
Months
In
And Three
months
out
Not sure if this
Is logical,
But I'm
Praying that
It's does—
Because now
It's just pure torture.
Fighting my own
Mind.
Because dammit
***** I think of you
All the time.
YOU ARE READING
guns and bullets
PoetryThe pen was the gun. Her words, the bullets. A collection of poetry I wrote when life happened.
