I wish my poetry was pretend...
And that every line I bled for you woulda clotted within my pen...
I look at our pictures and think of positive times I swore would never end.
Now you're just a negative that I wish I woulda kept trapped inside the camera's lens...

...The tears and mascara blend...

Leaving tracks of heartache on my cheeks...
I comprised a Dear John letter between my thighs...
Cuz your lies...have already penetrated me so deep...

I didn't abort your imperfections...
I rocked you to sleep and became C sick from all your deceptive Sections...
You fucked my mental with no protection...
Came in my brain and didn't take responsibility for what you left behind...
And I've been stuck with a seed of dissapointment for feels like a lifetime.

They say love is blind...in that case you can call me Helen...
Cuz I never Wonder.ed why the breath from your kiss tasted like deception.
I just swallowed the poison and prayed for an antidote.
Fuck a sleeve bearing hearts, I crotcheted my love thick as a winter coat.

...And there I stood...cloaked in your falsifications...

Wrapping myself in impurities that would make a snowman shiver...
Frostbite stifles my heart the way liquor attacks the liver...
You were an organ donor in reverse...
Replacing the best of me with your body parts diseased by years of hurt...

I am a model of your deceit...
Sashaying down the catwalk of your calamity as if it was New York fashion week...
You are like a Chanel knockoff that I purchased at bargain basement price...
In the petite section...knowing my heart is plus size so you could never fit properly in my life...

I picked out a wedding dress...but that doesn't make me a wife...
Moths procreate on bridal linens left hanging in the closet instead of seeing thresholds of honeymoon nights...
In simple terms: You...got...cold...feet...
Practiced those vows a thousand times but forever was a promise that you could never keep...

Your love was so potent it could pursade a mime to speak...
...But your goodbye was 10 times stronger...
And I'm forced to use my ink as my only form of speech...

...This brings me back to where I started...
Wishing that my pen would stop moving for you when the ending seems nowhere in sight...
All I can do is pray...that one day...I will finally write you out of my life...

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