black garden

Was I the one who fucked it up?Or maybe I was wrong from all the start?I let him pull me into that, for what?I can't have him, I can't have it, whatever.

Being strong means breaking every weekend,Holding hopeless whimper in you throat.Is this what I am really here for?How long ago I should've finally quit?.......If not escaping emotions,They're like a swarm of rats.Laughing gleefully, they followAnd catch you to devour.

Bitter taste of bloodAnd a bunch of painful poemsIs all that's up here leftIn this burned out                              black rose                                              garden.

Feb. 27, 2025