By Shambhavi Sharma
I do you and I do her
and everyone but me
All I have been is a morbid people pleaser
I get lost in hearts I own
Which one to bring which one is shown and shone
i can literally lick blood and still be unable to say no
I could wake a murdered man and have him say it was a low blow
But in the good kind of way because he had his last word
His epitaph could say “you were clearly heard”
I am the kind to lay supine
And say I can only see the three hands of the fan
And not the manifested barren waste land
I find love in people I am disappointed in
Because I gaslight myself to think it must be me who brought the wrong heart in