A happy couple,
You and me,
A painter paints,
Both of us,
Into the Sunset.
HP Poem #1150
You tell me that I'm beautiful.
That I'm "simply amazing."
That I'm adorable.
You tell me about the universe.
You tell me all these things;
A hushed whisper in the darkness of my mind.
Compliments and poetry mumbled in a groggy, half-asleep voice.
I like listening to your voice.
I like hearing you rant passionately about life.
I like hearing my name on your lips.
I wonder why you even bother talking to me.
Why I'm even worth your time.
Why I'm different.
You say I'm
Yet you are
Sorry for ******* everything up.
I used to be obsessed with
Those tiny, willowy, broken girls.
The ones with the sad eyes
And the drug habits.
But I look at your pictures
And I just get nauseous.
This doesn't suite you.
He doesn't suite you.
None of this suites you.
Remember when we needed each other?
Things were so ****** up,
But you looked so much healthier.
— The End —