Lucky.
That's what he used to call me,
Lucky.
He said that among all the girls he could've chosen he chose me.
He said I always got my way,
He said I was lucky.
Every time he texted,
"Night Lucky,"
"Morning Lucky"
...
"Don't tell anyone,
Lucky."
And I didn't.
I believed so deeply that what he said and what he did wasn't hurting me,
Because he wasn't hitting me.
"Lucky cover up."
"Don't talk to him Lucky."
"Don't do that.
...Lucky"
But eventually it faded and all you sent were demands,
orders,
rules.
And I thought,
Am I really lucky?
YOU ARE READING
My Poetry
PoetryCrushes, Heartbreak, Depression, Sad Truths I make it all! Here is my poetry! TW: Heartbreak and hurt, maybe a small amount of swearing but I don't know yet. #1 in Sadtruth - 10/5/23 #13 in Poetry - 11/11/23 #26 in Quotes - 11/14/23 #55 in...
