they call me childish and demanding,
needy and commanding,
they think I crave the lust of a man’s lips that have already been taken by another woman,
attention seeker
drama maker….
they think I crave the passion of a man’s hands that are already being held.
When in reality,
I sit here.
with a sound of a pin,
filling the silence within.
awkwardness tenderly strokes across the skin of his spine.
I know.
I know.
We will never be, ever be,
but they think it’s as clear as it’s seems,
he has no time,
and my poetry makes him anxious,
nauseous,
he’s stuck in a memory that shouldn’t be,
but it used to be,
a baby to a woman he regrets to have set his eyes on.
hoped what had happen would just fade away and be gone,
but a child was born.
they think that I am childish, demanding,
they prise at me like a fork to a tin,
but I don’t give in,
I am a warrior! I am a survivor!
I am not what you think I am!
image by chooo-san
You’re a good writer! 🙂
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do you really think ? thankyou I’ve been doubting myself lately
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Oh yes, theres a lot coming over – oh, and sorry I just noticed I’d not clicked the like button! Yeah, you’re cool and have a lot to say 🙂
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Great work! I love this! Fantastic writer you are!
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thankyou so much ♥
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