she drags her feet whenever she walks under me.
she was supposed to walk lightly,
like a gazelle stalking her prey.
she was supposed to walk smoothly,
in a confident strut she uses everyday.
but she didn't and that kinda put me to shame,
her toes kept getting caught in my piercings,
like she wasn't able to control her feelings or something.
i told her not to fall for me,
but she convinced herself she fit so perfectly with my bruisings.
when i told her to pick up her feet,
she got scared because i usually don't speak,
so i let her fold my bones like dough,
she wasn't very good at it though.
and when i asked her why she shaped me like an umbrella,
she said it's because carrying me around solved her own little vendetta.
oh how foolish i was to think a girl that stomps as hard as her could ever learn to love,
and how foolish was she to think a romantic like me
could ever know how to mold into something easily disposed of.
YOU ARE READING
bye bye butterfly
Poetryi told you i was going to write a book about you... bad language & bad memories enjoy !
