Why Jealousy Sucks More Than the New Star Wars

Location

An unholy attraction,
That leaves me torn apart at the seams.
Each word, each glance,
Slowly shreds the delicate stitching,
Holding me together.
 
He's the reason for my insomnia.
A sleepwalker would know better,
To walk the other way,
But with my eyes open, I'm just as blind.
 
I'd rather lick the floor in a biohazard storage,
Than confess to the truth,
That I've sold my soul to a Devil,
One that wears Jordans and skinny jeans.
 
Crimson flames couldnt contain him,
He'd shrug them off with a lazy smile,
Watching with his ebony eyes,
As the bonfire turns to ice.
 
Those same eyes could swallow up the blue sky,
And not think twice.
They could pull an Adele,
And ignite the rain as it pounds the cold, grey pavement.
 
And as I see him with her,
I see a different color.
 
My green eyes betray how I really feel,
As I smile and ask him,
His plans for Valentine's Day.
 
Wishing that I could tear up,
The heart-shaped card with her name on it,
Just like he's torn up mine.

Comments

Additional Resources

Get AI Feedback on your poem

Interested in feedback on your poem? Try our AI Feedback tool.
 

 

If You Need Support

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