Withered flower

 

I spent my happiness on you

but you couldn't supply kindness.

I gave my hope,

every last coin it's true.

I let you take,

until your pockets were lined,

mine, nothing but

old receipts and reminders.

I spent my heart on you.

Every last drop I squeezed out,

watching the pips of uncertainty

ripple in the red liquid.

A cup ready to overflow,

but all you gave me was doubt

in a sea of untruths.

 

I spent my love on you.

Every last golden piece,

I gave until

my account had decreased

so deep into the red

that I could no longer give

the blood I'd already bled.

I spent my time on you.

Every fleeting second,

every ticking clockface spin,

every moment closer to the end.

I never wanted them

to be spent alone again.

 

I spent all hope on you.

Any shred of a future,

I kept it in a box,

with a photo of a flower attached.

I kept it with words I'd scratched

Into the tree bark of my brain.

I kept it in the pitter patter of the rain,

that reminded me of your heartbeat,

when love was in flame.

I spent my darkness on you.

Every transaction, gives me less,

I sunk every last investment

into an empty nest, now I am flying

in the still, black sky

and I'm happy

because I don't have to hear

another lie told about me

 

 

Thanks for reading

Endless Nightmares out now

300 pages of horror themed poetic storytelliung

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Please take a look at my previous collection "Torn Pages"

100+ all new poems not shared here before.

https://tinyurl.com/KCtornpages

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Peace, Love and Poetry 

 

Kyle