You don't know it but you tear me down with your words. You pick off my skin slowly. Peal away until you see flesh, and then you cut away at my insides. I've slowly been killed, by the letters that fall off your tongue. Life is short and so I should let you go. I cant. Sometimes those false words are sweet, sweet like strawberries in lemonade. Sometimes it feels good to be loved. Even if it is false love. Even if I know, deep down, that tomorrow, You will come back. Come back and take another slice of my heart, another portion of my soul. But i'll stay. I'll stay because I await sweet lemonade. Because I love lemonade.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

Related entries

The Book is Being Written

How we observe and how we reflect.

The Dreary Faceless

The observations and reflections of a traveller in a foreign land.

The Model House

The facades of a perfect home.

The Woman Who

This peom is about a woman in my life, who is suppose to be there for me but is not.


Dreams, desires, id and ego.