Roses are red,
Violets are blue,
Want to know a secret?
I’ll give you a clue.

The grass is green,
My cheeks are pink,
I’ve spent weeks of my life,
Spilling this ink.

This cat is grey
And the sun is yellow,
The thirty poems I wrote about you
Are not all too mellow.

Violets are blue
And roses are red,
When you left me
I wished I was dead.

there is a fire in my chest at the moment
it's my anger as it flares up
burning away any love I have for you
the smoke from the fire
wafts out of my mouth
along with the hateful words, I spit
you try to calm me
you try to douse the fire with freezing cold water
but my fire isn't that simple
it's electric
bright and full of passion
water cannot put it out
I have a feeling it'll burn forever
or maybe itll turn to ash with me
on my last day

I want to learn a new language that I can forget you in.

it's hard knowing that
i'll wake up tomorrow
wanting the day to end

when people are in love
they often say
they simply fell
tripped over their own two feet
face forward
and into the arms of their beloved

i did more than simply fall
onto the ground of your love

you, for me
were an ocean
and i dived
headfirst
roughly
harshly
almost painfully
into the waters of “you”

i knew i could not swim
but i did so anyway
i was drowning
entangled in you
surrounded by this being of “you”
engulfed in this feeling of “you”

and i did not know what came over me
but i let myself drown
i did not try to swim back up
because if i went back to land,
releasing myself from your grasp
that would mean losing the feeling of “you”

and after
submerging into the depth
the love
the passion
of “you”

how could i ever leave?