His playground of love.

First off, I would like to say I loved you...

Secondly, That was the Third left lie you spoke, leaving me lingering in Beyonce metaphores, my love was to the left of your expectations.

 

And lately, I've been contemplating, coming to a realization that I was trapped within your four ontaminated walls.

Confusing love and lust that lingered on these blue lines. 

 

Truth is, I loved you while you were hurting me but I'll endure every minute of pain before i watch you love someone else. 

Maybe, I'm not fit for you and baby... Im giving up as we speak... I laugh because we havent spoken in weeks. And lately my weeks feel like months, and my months feel like years...

 

This heart you hold isn't your stepping stool.

My emotions arent monkey bars.

And how i feel isnt a chained swing.

 

A playground was never imprinted on my back but yet you leave me standing here in chalked out metaphors, smilies and hyperboles, paiting pictures with utensils im too weak to use and to you... I gave my all.

 

And poetically Im  expressing to you how you've changed me, because you didnt seem to understand normally... your mind has forgotten I landed face firstt leaving me with scars too delicate. 

 

I too was hyponitized, you teased me, you pleased me too often across blue lines of white sheets. You schooled me, gave me some things to think about. Ignite me, you invite me, you co-write me, you "loved" me, you like me...

 

Damn , I fell for this dude named Poetry. 

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