You stabbed me

with words

like knives. 

You got away with murder too many times.

I placed a gun to my skull,

it held only one bullet. 

My finger sat on the trigger 

too numb to pull it.

I let you grow inside of me 

like a weed,

and every night I get too high to speak.

You're a rocket ship, 

you take me to the moon.

I'm praying I won't come down soon.

I'm drifting by,

admiring the stars

and memories of us

kissing in cars.

Baby take me back to when we played games in your basement

Your body is art 

baby girl 

let me trace it. 

I don't find peace in this 

i find poetry. 

The "storm" seems more like war to me.

When it comes to love I'll be a soldier,

fighting day and night so once again I can hold her.


Need to talk?

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741