It belonged to you,
this token of your heart
I proudly called mine.
We used to play
tug of war
until the bell's chime.
Some day I
actually convinced you
to let me win the game
and I thought I won at life
when I first called you mine.
Some how I
actually found my heart had
swapped with yours
for it felt tugged and rugged
by this rigged game.
It belonged to you,
the victory of the heart
I wore on my sleeve
and so did its
pliant destruction.
You tattooed on me
the word FIN.
YOU ARE READING
Falling out
Poetryrollercoaster of emotions of a teen on an adventure called life, sad version
