• aquarius_green 5w

    1:03 am

    You're a trick candle that doesn't go out
    There's more plates to wash,
    People are heading out
    Cant see why you left me, it must be for clout

    The prettiest faces can't make a personality
    You thought they would have such rarity
    They make it seem like it's a good thing
    But they're making you do a bad thing

    Quietly, silently, gently,
    They don't love you generally
    Flip through the pages that predicted the future
    Follow it suite, it will give you love to be sure
    Do exactly what it says, do exactly what it does

    You give me expiration dates
    We didn't go to any dates
    It hurts to see you with someone else
    I can't believe that I didn't know, I was too dense

    Even if I'm so broken inside
    I'm making a good facade to make it pass by
    You're giving me pressure,
    You're feeling the pleasure

    Make metaphors to let it go
    Isn't that the reason why poems exist?
    To bring relief to the writer and the reader?

    Let my problems go at 1:03 in the morning
    I could be in a death bed by now,
    But I remember my purpose

    My purpose is to keep the worries of my peers in
    Make them feel relief
    Keep them in until I can't take any more
    Sometimes I wonder why I'm the one punished

    This isn't a punishment right?
    This is the way my life goes
    Gather their problems, keep them in, then fade away
    That's what many people say

    It may be hard,
    But be strong and hold on tight
    We could win this fight
    Don't be frightened, after this, you will enlighten

    Don't give in,
    We're all glass,
    But we can always put ourselves back together
    We're all fragile jars that could fill up another

    Make it spill and we can wipe it right after

    Purple skies that predicts what comes next
    Last night, I got a text from an ex
    He said he's over me and he's looking for the next
    He said he'll find someone better than the rest

    This never ending poem is my last stand
    But like what Sayori said,

    "A poem never ends, it just stops moving."