I’m a poet..

Metaphors are supposed to be my best friend

And similes my family

With them I can paint a picture with a single line.

But when it comes to you…

I’m speechless

I’m afraid

I’m losing my mind

I might as well be attempting to joust with a pool noodle

Or attempt to go sky diving with a fishing net

Because with you…

Hearts are just like promises …. Broken

I love you and I’m sorry are like a political agenda just worn from repetition, repetition, repetition. But never solving the actual problem.

Memories become gravestones dug deep inside our minds

And seeing each other is like looking in a mirror and seeing what you promised you would never become

I’m a poet

Yet every picture I paint only ends up in your garbage

Every mosaic I meticulously piece together you gather your friends and mock

I even tried origami, only to have you set the paper ablaze

So my pen being my confession and the page my priest. I lay this to rest

Because I finally accepted

Im not a poet

Im just the punchline on the tombstones.