I'd [prose? Is this prose?]

I’d

Write you into my bruised heart,

where I can keep you

and remember all of the pain -

every single piece of hurt,

each droplet of blood…

They looked like flower petals on the ground.

And your feet

would always trample them

crush them

desecrate them

dirty their innocence.

And your pretty pink lips would always tell me

you hate me

you hate me

you hate me

you hate me.




I’d

Write you into my

heart.

Scarred wounded bleeding heart.

So that I can remember

our twisted love story

as I die slowly.