I was Background Noise To Your Concert.

“I was background noise to your concert.”

I always knew I was not your main act

My kingdom was under attack

I saw the way you stared at your phone when you were with me

You locked me in a dungeon and threw away the key

Told me I had nothing to worry about and that you weren’t setting me free

Filled me up with such love and care

I was in a dark despair

I knew I needed to say my last prayer

For us two weren’t the only pair

All I was to you was fresh air

You had many others lurking in the corners behind my back

All I tried to do was put you back on track

You didn’t love me

You used me

You took advantage of me

You knew that no matter what I wouldn’t figure out your games and flee

I knew deep down you were on a loving spree

You have given me trust issues

I don’t know how to love again without constant worries

You have heavily affected me on my journey

All I was to you was background noise at your concert

 

How could you do this to an introvert?

 

Pick up your copy of my poetry book “Sunset Skies and Dimly Lit Nights at” : https://www.amazon.com/Sunset-Skies-Dimly-Lit-Nights/dp/1976706610/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1529618134&sr=8-1&keywords=sunset+skies+and+dimly&dpID=51uSOt0c9VL&preST=_SY344_BO1,204,203,200_QL70_&dpSrc=srch

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Always open to collaborate! I love to get feedback from my readers, (good or bad) I love to write and inspire my readers to become the best version of themselves. Along with ways to do so! Follow me on my journey. I live In a small town in Michigan, and I am seventeen years old.

43 thoughts on “I was Background Noise To Your Concert.

  1. Poignantly beautiful. Carry a candle and you can always use the wax to make an impression of any key given and received. I always carry blank keys and a file. It helps when you are an amatuer escape artist

      1. She was a wordSmith
        That used her eyes as a Hammer.
        She was a sporadic romantic
        When she wasn’t busy getting dumped.

        She chased the sky except
        When it stopped holding value.
        She looked for passion,
        To quench an unmet Road
        Named desire. She rode a
        Bike through her mind and

        Didn’t travel much but oh,
        How she could describe a sunset
        To places she’d never been,
        But Saw…

        Erratic was her middle name
        And gullible was her slang
        A throne was her prison yet
        She never walked with royalty nor
        Got to stumble in court to Entertain.

        She was a pioneer not s princess,
        Naw.
        A wordsmith
        With a toolbox full of rough drafts
        That blew the broken pieces needing
        Mending
        Away.

      1. One currently. I have just written a novella which will also be on Amazon come the following year 🙂 its getting traditionally published so it has to go through all the phases of course.

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