"You're the apple of my eye" he used to say.
he was sweet but something was off about him or his ways.
Soon I realized what kind of an apple I was to him.
Now, by the memories of my ruined childhood I'm often chased.
YOU ARE READING
Dead Ends
PoesiaSometimes it's not about the end. It's just about the story. A collection of four liners that I wrote which didn't have the oh-so-perfect endings. Well because life doesn't offer each and everyone the fairytale endings they grew up listening to.
