you don't get to do that.
you don't get to
sit in the back of my head,
whispering how nobody
can compare to you.
and goddamn it,
you don't get to
force me to agree with you.
you don't get to
appear in my head
for a fraction of a second,
which seems too long
to even think about you,
whenever i kiss someone else.
stop it, i screamed.
i'm so sick and tired
of all of this.
i don't belong to you.
you don't get to
interrupt me when
i'm holding hands
with someone else,
with my hands suddenly
growing cold at the
thought of you.
you ruin everything,
that's what you do!
leave me alone,
stop turning my hands cold.
you don't get to
live up here and
force me to think about you
and what you're doing.
i'm not in love with you,
but oh my god,
do i remember when i was.
YOU ARE READING
Almost | ✓
PoetryIsn't that the saddest word? Almost. Something with so much potential... but just didn't happen. We were almost lovers. We almost lived. These were almost stories. ●●● [ a collection of poems ] highest ranking: #3 [[ 08_03_16 ]]
