*my poetry*

i write when im heartbroken, and im heartbroken a lot

[brokensidewalkpoetry]

i remember the sound of your bed squeaking as our bodies intertwined, not making love, as i later found out, but fucking in a way that left only me with strings attached. i remember the taste of our mouths; my mint gum was a different flavor than yours. i remember marveling at the strength of your body, of your beautiful black skin and lovely warm hands. i remember thinking, ‘i won’t catch feelings’ but falling for you just as soon as i stepped outside of your door.

brokensidewalkpoetry

[brokensidewalkpoetry]

[brokensidewalkpoetry]

[brokensidewalkpoetry]

i used to write down everything we did together. where we went, the little things you said to me or the things you did that made my heart flutter. i wrote them down with joy in my heart and a fluttering feeling in my chest. now, looking back at those pages and pages and pages of you of us of what we were, my chest no longer flutters around like a butterfly on a beautiful flower. my chest sinks like a weight dropped off in the depths of swirling dark waters.