Love/Sick
November 19, 2018
She was an average girl.
Now she’s getting colder,
she thought someone had told her
this is love;
you choke it down, throw it up.
Oh, miss believer,
your shaking shoulders prove that it’s colder
inside “I love you,”
but together we go
roam the city.
This night is
a permanent slumber
of broken memories.
We’re damaged,
but
we choose
life.
(Subtractive poem created by writing out song lyrics and then removing words to create a poem. I do not own any of the song lyrics used. Photo courtesy of Google Images.)
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