i write tragedies
not sonnets
i'm as dark
as the night
my soul
holds sadness
grunge
is my aesthetic
and cheery
is not in my vocabulary

the night my life changed
i was wearing
a white dress
with blue and red
flowers

and you were wearing
well, actually
it doesn't
matter

the night my life changed
it was dark
and you were drunk
and somehow
it was my fault

if he loves you,
you won't need to beg
you won't need to convince yourself
he'll tell you.
if he loves you,
he won't make you cry
he won't leave you hurt
he'll show you.
if he loves you,
you won't need to guess
you won't need to wonder
you'll know

you cannot flourish as a flower
if you are putting yourself in a vase

she collapsed underneath
the stars and only then
did she realize that she
was indeed exploding