Shapes
Circles. We are going in circles.
As we spin around, the world stops.
And we both will eventually fall.
So I wonder, who will fall first?
Since when do I write poetry?
Lately, I have been writing uncontrollably.
My poetry is insane,
And he will not read them anyway.
Hearts. I draw imaginary hearts.
I think I will call a nurse,
Since he ignores me,
And I feel heartbroken now.
I am smiling every day,
Pretending it is all okay.
Although this time I did not make an effort,
Because it does not make me feel better.
Squares. I feel we are squares.
We go on a straight direction.
Until he closes the doors, creating a 90 degree angle,
When I am not paying attention.
Who should I blame?
He left me.
And I sit here,
Writing poetry.
Turns out we are shapes.
I fell first.
He changed.
Maybe my poetry is cursed,
Cursed with shapes.
Something wrong with this poem?
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