Maybe there is not a poem about this. Maybe there never was suppose to be a poem about this. Maybe if I just write forever there will not be a poem about this. At this point this is not even a poem about this.
Writers say it all because it has to be said
for what really
this is not even a poem
so much is left unsaid because it does not need voice
so much is spoken no one really wants to hear
or can understand
it's blackness for nothing
sadness to a point
yet there is a smile is there not
there is love can you not see
so we fell in love through books and documentaries
and yeah the math and engineering is to die for
but we are living beings are we not
yes you fell in love over art and rainbows
fucking unicorns I guess
deadly assaisins have your heart
when even a poem feels like a lie
I really loved you all but this war is a bit much
when even warmth feels like handcuffs
I've almost talked myself out of the tears I cry for it all and nothing really
on this day I could see so clearly it felt like I should have died
What do you miss the most
The Beatles
what do you miss the most
really The Beatles
what will you remember when it is all gone
that I never believed you all in the first place
what will you regret
the tears for nothing and the isolation I kept going on about
what will you be when you are gone
a girl in a hot shower writing post apocalyptic love poems
in the end I will see I worried too much
for all of them and expressed myself through anger
this makes the angels come to your side
I close my eyes as they sit beside me in silence
see after all this is
a real love poem
This is Josaisa, Live from Planet Girl On a Diet.
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