poetry

probably not haikus

it occurred to me
that maybe you were right
about some of those things

//

you made me French Press
it was strong
it was dark
it was never enough

//

oh fuck your smiley face
I’m taking back Sunday’s
one bite at a time

//

he sits there across
from me
it’s unfortunate
that he is
married

//

the ache and the longing
the smell of your skin
a lost lullaby

//

you so pretty
strutting down Hollywood
your heart bleeds
all over me

//

she rocked me back and forth
under the weight of her confidence
I bloomed

//

(Bonus:

My name is Liz
I hate fairies
and animals
and children.)

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