Vent🌌

I split dyed my entire head purple and red have a shit poem

Why would you ever kiss me?
I'm not even all that pretty
You say my hands are soft
But I tend to think theyre not
Maybe I am crazy
Maybe I'm insane
But my heart keeps aching
Calling out your name
And when I write my poems
My finger tips turn cold
For I have filled the page
With your name, in bold
And if our hands had been split
By millions of stars
I couldn't say that I would mind
Or love you any sparse
And perhaps I'm a little crazy
For you are on my mind
A memory
A melody
Of stolen summer time
Under dead trees in public places
Blurred, yet happy faces
And yet my heart can't help but beg
To hear from you again
And my mind can't help but wonder
If I am in your squander
Or if I am forgotten
Or hidden deep inside
For you are at the forefront of my mind
Even if you wish To hide
Because I crave your hands
To hold me like they did
Because I still remember
Back when we were kids
And sometimes I still write
And delete a short message
And yet you have written
And here I am, sittin
Writing a poem she will
Never read
A cathedral of emptiness
A grave stone of death
For a love once so sweet
Turned bitter and sad
And now we are here
All broken and hurting
But we are still standing
Still loving
Still wishing
On the stars
I never forgot about you

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