My Images of You , by D Subscribe to rss feed for D

He was like a book you pick up
And can never put down. 
Each page so much better than the last.
You’re nearly brought to tears by the thought of it 
Coming to an end. 
He was a poem whose meaning I spent 2 years trying to
comprehend.
I was an amateur,
Blinded by his beauty,
Not realizing the damages he masked. 
He was life as I knew it.
Life doesn’t last forever. 
He became an unexpected stab in the back by someone you
thought you could trust. 
He is a cliché film about teenage heartbreak;
A story I watched but never imagined would someday become my
reality. 
Because of him, my heart
Is a sunken ship whose remains may never be 
found again. 
Posted: 2017-03-13 02:35:05 UTC

This poem has no votes yet. To vote, you must be logged in.
To leave comments, you must be logged in.