Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
May 2014
He told me he loved my long hair,
the way it framed my face.
Accentuated my green eyes.
A sort of beautiful nesting place.
And so I cut it off.
He told me he loved the way I loved Jesus.
My faith was inspiring.
He admired me.
I was what he believed.
And so I stopped praying.
He told me he loved that I was chaste.
So pure.
his ravenous heart found a cure,
between my legs.
And now it's his.
He hated cigarettes with a passion,
I smoked them all ****** and ashen.
He thought it was endearing,
the way I cringed at vulgarity.
My filthy mouth was once a rarity.
But my new favorite word was ****.
He hated drugs,
and so I did them.
He loved me,
and so I didn't.
I pushed and pulled and twisted and fought,
until he didn't know who he loved.
And so he forgot.
bekka walker
Written by
bekka walker  MT
(MT)   
811
     claire mk, r, keaoss, olivia go, LN and 1 other
Please log in to view and add comments on poems