126.
Don't get close to a poet.
You'll turn into poetry.
127.
My dad likes to make empty promises.
"I promise we'll go this weekend."
"We'll go later this week."
"It won't happen again. I promise."
Promise after promise. Lie after lie.
Even when I know he's lying. I can't help but believe him anyway.
~E, sweet nothings.
128.
We don't quit.
We get up back up again and again.
Even after we fall for the thousandth time.
129.
I've laid my heart on a platter for you.
To dine on it for being soft and vulnerable from the very beginning.
You pushed it away. Just as you pushed me away.
~E, being left behind.
130.
The heart stops hoping after a while.
But mine.
I still was hoping for you to come back.
YOU ARE READING
sunsets after dark. | poetry collection
Poetryfor the ones that were the sunshine for one wrong person then became the midnight rain for everyone else. a collection of short and long poems and occasional updates. "Sorrys are just something you say to avoid doing anything different or better."...
