i don't miss what we had but could someone give a message to the performer :
you ruined me.
"friendship is a gift", isn't that what they all said ?
however, you were a poison. an inodore one.
took me my friends, my personality and even my looks.
dammit you must love me hard ain't it ?
don't you worry folks, she let me my struggles.
"you look alike", people warned us.
i didn't read the signs. i missed them.
who am i referring to ? the girl you see at every table waiting for the right moment to steal your kingdom's keys.
"she didn't do this to hurt you", they told me.
as if she didn't use me for clout ? who knows her more than me ?
funny thing how it isn't you who's been called out for being "such a disrespectful girl",
she blatantly lied knowing where the truth lies.
you ate from my mother's hand and chose to be such a bitch,
what a shame.
i used to write poems under flowers name in case someone would recognise your pitiful character.
stitches undone, i am bleeding since that day. i've never felt done before that letter.
maybe writing that down would let me rest.
good riddance.
YOU ARE READING
museum of moments
Non-FictionHere comes the madness, they said. You'll find your own way by experiencing life. Don't be afraid of losing yourself in the process. This book is for the scarred, the lonely and the misunderstood.
