thank god i can’t write good poetry
the best poetry comes from pain and hurt if you ask me
so although i can’t write like i used to
at least it means i’m doing alright

Love 
                                               for              you
                                            ­is                      rinse
                                   ­         and                 repeat,
                            ­                  just                  the
                     ­                             way              I
                 ­                                       like  it

(read forward, then backward, line by line)

I ran.
Not knowing what else to do
There was so much blood on my hands
It was mine
The kitchen knife
Caught in my chest
Guilt
Consumed by
Fear
I was heightened by
Adrenaline
But running on
Wasn’t enough
While trying to stay calm,
Losing control
It was me that would end up
Dead. Because
He was
In front of me
The whole time
It was too late
Trapped
I found myself
Locked in chains
My fate was
Death.

I had more love for the
reflection of your shadow,
than you had ever had
for the entirety of my soul

©