Poetry kills

All form of expression kills
And I mean that literally
Not figuratively
Because nothing is really real when it's in your head - and that's fun

No one know what you're thinking
Not what your thoughts are telling you
No one knows who you miss
Who you loved
Love
Who you ******
Who you missed
Miss

Some may know who ****** you around
Is ******* you around
Will continue to ******* around
Without even making contact with you

Because minds like to play tricks
And mine is an evil genius

You still cross my mind time to time
And my mind enjoys that
It likes to play the bad memories on replay
You hit me
Are hitting me
*****
Still ****
And I'm left numb

I love very much still
Beautiful people I meet
But none compare to your nature
Your urgent adolescence
Your forceful adulthood

I miss your mind games

Nothing's real until it's written on paper
Typed on a screen

Poetry kills