This Isn't For You

365 Days of Creativity

day sixty six

I wrote you a poem

It was sweet in design

Loving and honest

"I want you to be mine"

Sounds warm and tender,

like tinder and thyme.

But I wanted to burn it,

so I took it inside.

Back to the depths

of my heart and my mind.

I'm not built to be happy,

loving or kind.

Bring me your past,

but ask not of mine.

Sharing is caring

is feeling divine.

Sharing is caring 

is words full of lies.

Even as you read this,

Even as you try,

to continue to hope,

to continue to pry.

This isn't for you,

it's now to realize.

You think in some way,

it's a matter of time.

I've got to come round,

to see I've been blind.

But I'm wide awake,

it's your dreams and your ties,

that need to be cut,

that need to be fried.

Don't call me baby,

don't try to be kind.

This isn't for you,

you're not in my mind.

You're asking yourself,

then why do I write?

Because I can't care,

and so I deny.

This truth is surreal,

a long twisted vine.

And so I spew fiction,

ignorance is sublime.