just pouring every ounce of my fucking heart
just for it to get stomped
in the form of no listening
and ignoring my warnings
saying you'll take things into account
when all you did was listen to me, be respectful, and took him back anyways.
guess it just doesn't matter anyways, or it never really has.
YOU ARE READING
I'll Be Fine (pt. 2 of 2)
Poetrypoetry showing my stress. relieving, coping, really. continuing to add poems, sometimes daily. use this as place to talk about your own frustrations and dances with pain and strife
