second person

in #poetry3 years ago (edited)

The Perfect Suit. (32).png

on days like this i tend to overthink about if i would
want to change my life around, and often wish that i could
travel back in time, but there’s a lockdown on my timeline.
you know, everything’s a cycle, but i’m trying to draw a fine line.
i always seem to find a metaphor i can relate to;
often talk about myself in second person: “i hate you!
wait until the patience is present and you are gifted.
till that happens, it is up to you to choose how to get lifted.”

you can invest your all in her and lose yourself,
or you can just invest it all into yourself and health,
and worry less about the things that do not even matter -
like love, sex, drugs, and money, especially the latter
two; that’s drugs and money, but if love’s a drug,
then isn’t taking a line of coke just like a hug;
something foreign that’s making you feel good inside?
babe, i’m addicted, but i tried…

i tried to give you up for good and be heartless,
but i just can’t seem to forget you, regardless
of what it is you feel or what you think of me; i’m sorry.
we’re still nothing but strangers, so i shouldn’t even worry.

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