Friday, 11 November 2011

Does nothing

Every breath that enters
Feels like it just sits in my lungs
And does nothing
For fun.

Thinking of you
Drives me insane
And causes me to write a love poem
That, I think, is lame.

Last time this happened
I was unhappy with the end
So I think we should just remain

You’ll probably never read this poem
But if by some amazing consequence you do
(and know that this is for you)
Don’t think less of me.