Your Guts , My Guts. #Poetry

Heres the thing with guts.

your guts , my guts.

I hate your guts,

I want you deep inside my guts.

Guts. They make me who I am,


But who isnt?

when it comes to the boy you love, you hate him, dont you?

Dont tell me you love him, thats not love.

Love is hating someone with a passion, a burning passion.

Mad at them for taking parts of you little by little,

but they spark a flame in you,

soon the red flame cools down, its blue.

and so you melt, you feel the smile aching,

but you cant.

You built yourself from scratch, how can someone take all that away from you.

guts, they make me who I am.

I hate him,I love him, but I also fear him.

I cant help but think of the agonising pain Ill feel once he leaves me.

Dont shame me for fearing commitment, its not illogical.

The amount of love I hold for him can kill once unleashed, once mistreated.

Can you imagine the damage thatll be done once he leaves?

guts, they make me who I am.

What if I follow my guts?

Im no longer secure

Im no longer me

For if I was I in such predicament,

I wouldnt let a boy infest my mind the way this one has.

So what if my guts are wrong? They make me who I am.

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