Like a disease you crawled under my skin. Once you were in my body and my mind, there was no turning back. It's not your fault for making me feel like this. It's not your fault for making me want to kill myself. It is all mine. I thought you were the cure of the sickness other people gave me. What a fool I've been, for thinking that one illness could cure another illness. Like a disease, you spread what you call 'love' in my mind and body. But unlike most diseases, they got a cure and you don't. And now another one is trying to get under my skin and I can't figure out if I'm lucky or near my ending. I just can't figure out if this is going to be another disease.
- A.M
YOU ARE READING
It's always about you
PoetryShorts poems about 'you'. I like to write my thoughts down so don't expect masterpieces because you won't find them here
