"instaed" poems
Why do the call it "falling" in love?
Is it because it's supposed to feel as if your
gliding
through the air?
Soaring confidently down deeper and deeper.
The edranaline is
Rushing
Through your veins.
And just when your about to crash to your death, your love sweeps you into their arms, and just
Holds you.
But what if the person you love doesn't love you back?
Instaed of gliding and soaring, you are
Plummeting
To your death, to your final breath.
And you crash and break into a million cutting peices.
Who will clean up the mess?
Who?
Nov 17, 2012
Nov 17, 2012 at 11:41 PM UTC
Flowing on my cheeks
Converging on my chin
They came with pain
Instaed of joy
Their plans were to sink me in them
I rose and flew before I drown
I knew if I drowned
I would sink in them and
that will be my last seen.
Feb 28, 2021
Feb 28, 2021 at 11:16 AM UTC