Phone Notes

​

Our love is like bad poetry,

the kind that rhymes fire

with desire

and tells

instead of shows.

​

The kind that drags on

and on

when it should’ve ended

after the ninth line…

​

or shouldn’t have been written

in the first place.

​

Our love is like bad poetry,

and we’ll never make it

into a Penguin book,

or a church

with confetti in our hair.

​

Our love stays in my phone notes,

hastily typed

but never quite deleted.

​

~

​

Feedback:

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/rg8ikq/a_girl_like_an_alyssum_flower/

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/rgawgi/rocpoetry_suicide/hoj1uwa/?context=3