I keep writing poems for women who deserve better so here is my open letter.
Everything you used to be.
Or want to be because dreams and reality can't both be seen with open eyes.
You missed a spot.
In my heart where you forgot to cover up, and now all there is are gimmicks and cover ups.
The blank lines I stare at scared to write what I really wanna say. Your innocents temps me to lay it all out but the ink being permanent keeps my hand in delay.
In regards to,
Everything about you.
Meaning negatives too.
Hypothermia off cold stares caught me the flu. The flame is supposed to be red, but now, somehow, it's blue. But what am I supposed to do?
I must've written to much, lemme crumple this up.
Best of luck, Trust