June 8, 2017
you told me
you would have married perfection if you could.
you would have cared for perfection if you could.
instead, you could only love
amidst the mess you created.
oh, but the beauty died
within her each
under the shadows of
deprived of the sun, of everything you didn’t have.
and yet you wonder
your mass of
the syrup you fed into my system.
you told me you were always right.