I’m a  poet..
Metaphors are supposed to be my best friend
And similes my family
With them I can paint a picture with a single line.
But when it comes to you…
I’m speechless
I’m afraid
I’m losing my mind
I might as well be attempting to joust with a pool noodle
Or attempt to go sky diving with a fishing net
Because with you…
Hearts are just like promises …. Broken
I love you and I’m sorry are like a political agenda just worn from repetition, repetition, repetition. But never solving the actual problem.
Memories become gravestones dug deep inside our minds
And seeing each other is like looking in a mirror and seeing what you promised you would never become
I’m a poet
Yet every picture I paint only ends up in your garbage
Every mosaic I meticulously piece together you gather your friends and mock
I even tried origami, only to have you set the paper ablaze
So my pen being my confession and the page my priest. I lay this to rest
Because I finally accepted
Im not a poet
Im just the punchline on the tombstones.