Untitled 17

I was tired of holding on I let go
My hands ruptured by your grip my blood flowed
Your roses pricked me more with their thorns
Your kisses stung my face and it burnt

Scarce were your visits and attention
Like warders checking on prisoners in detention
I was desperate for you to stay
But my entirety was an object for your play

How painful it is to make a home
Of those who will eventually leave and roam?
How sad it is to always put up a font
To fill my love and attention's want

I was tired of hiding ugly parts of me
So you will stay if you don't see
Of being with you yet feeling so alone
Your actions constantly showed I was on my own

The future with you I didn't know
So I had to let go