love me tenderly,
kiss my scars,
remind me again of how precious you are
fool me once,
or fool me twice,
i don't mind baby,
but do i suffice?
kisses here, kisses there,
but somehow babe you never share,
i see it all, both near and far,
watching it all distantly with my mouth ajar
fool me thrice, play me like a dice,
and leave me at the edge of my life,
i'm helpless now reaching for the knife,
remind me again how precious is your wife?
__________________________________
my magnum opus about the ordeal with the person i liked from the previous poem, written about a year after it had happened.
a brutal fetishisation of my vulnerability and scars, all the while being used, lead on and cheated on at the same time with one of my friends - i had to watch in confusion for months, left in the dark i'd see and hear things that would make me feel sick with worry but i'd "rationalize it away" because in my vulnerable and terrible state i felt such a comfort in this person, the only comfort i had at the time, that i thought was love.
well eventually they dropped off the face of the planet for me, until a week or so later a different friend mentioned to me the person is now dating the same friend i had been worried about the whole time.
i was the last to know, all my biggest worries id pretended not to know came true, and at one of the worst times in my entire life as well. yes, thank you for that.
*********
i titled this one tender as both love and painful burns can feel 'tender', leaving the reader confused as to what kind of 'tender' i mean in the same way i was confused for all that time.
it follows the general timeline of events and my feelings throughout; hopelessness, sadness and patheticness, turning to a blistering rage towards everyone - including myself.
they would always talk about their new partner excessively infront of me as well without ever directly cleaning it up prior, hence the line "remind me again how precious is your wife?", it was all the stuff i'd heard before, but this time i knew without a shadow of a doubt it was true - and it had been true all this time.
YOU ARE READING
#ShitPoetry (WIP)
Poetrycollection of creative expressions of vulnerability. don't expect this to be great im just a teenage girl writing on the notes app in trying times........ but i hope you like it anyway - i promise i'm not a misreable bastard anymore!
