Misunderstood

There is no life in this blood
Heartache rushing in like a flood
My heart is buried in your mud
And giving up, I would if I could

These streets are lined with people who are down
Yet your hand is never one that can be found
On broken backs you prance around
And forgetting you, I probably should

It’s either burning bridges or half- frozen lakes
And how to get through, I don’t know what it takes
Sleeping pills or alcohol won’t stop the aches
And all your meanings, well I clearly misunderstood

© Delia Ross. 2020

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Good luck with her, her, her, and her (there’s 4 of them right?) I’m just tired of being an outcast and a fool for love. Reading your poetry and comments to girls is like falling straight into a cactus naked. I can’t do it anymore. I’m literally going to die if I get one more prick. Goodbye

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