Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Sep 2014
I want to believe you don't think of her
but sometimes,
you bring her up.

It's not that we can't talk about it
but it may be
more often than I'd like.

Then again,
you tell me things,
everything,
and it makes it
okay.

Because at the end of the day,
I know
you love
me
more than you ever could have loved
her.
I still get jealous okay? I'm sorry.
Written by
Kyra Elise  22/F
(22/F)   
Please log in to view and add comments on poems