I wrote a poem about you.
Yeah, maybe one or two,
But that’s the past now.
No doubt,
You don’t even remember my name.
Anyway what was I saying?
Oh, I was talking bout a poem I wrote.
But who knows?
I was caught up in the love, the lust-
But even out of those,
I was caught up in your words.
So lyrical, spiritual
All poetic and s***-
I think I was in love with your lips.
Your voice was like music,
Your words like a song.
And I just wanted to sing along.
So I locked away your words and promises,
Put them on paper so I wouldn’t forget.
I turned your love into a poem and yet
You’re not here to read it.
I’ve been wasting my time, my rhymes-
But forget that!
I’ve been losing my mind.
So, I set fire to the poems.
I let your words, you songs, your lies
Burn.
Because I realized
That this pen and paper will write about my life.
This poem’s not about you, and it’s about damn time.