You are
You are the aftertaste
the recoiling,
the bittersweet pain.
The lingering,
the recurring,
motif inside my brain.
The broken record,
you just play and replay
perpetually spinning.
for every singe day.
You’re the protagonist
of my world
my galaxy,
our Milky Way.
I don’t know how or why,
but every thought
leads irrevocably to you.
If only,
that were the way
that you felt, too.
I see you and
sirens just go off in my mind
To me you’re idyllic
perfectly tainted,
a charming prince.
I overthink and reassure myself
from time to time,
that perhaps just maybe
I’ll be your future “mine.”
For now I’ll let that possibility
that mild potential
of loving reciprocity,
I’ll let it outweigh the cruel fact...
you don’t love me back.
-Martha<3











