At the snap of your fingers I would run so fast to your arms.
That's my problem you see
Love
The worst form of cancer out there
No one will tell you to run from it; and if you've never felt it...you crave it
That's my problem you see
I love you...still
He hurt you
I whisper to myself
He hid you
I tell myself
He made you cover up everything, even your personality
I say
That's not love
I yell at myself
But it sure as hell felt like it
I whisper again
Lust.
Is what it was
Not love
Never love
If he loved me he wouldn't of left hand marks on my wrist aside for passion
If he loved me he wouldn't hide me
If he loved me he wouldn't of told me to cover up everything even my personality
If he loved me he would've wanted more than my body
He would made eye contact
Not look me up and down constantly
He would hold me
Not grope me unless it was in intimacy
He would kiss my lips more often than my chest
It wasn't love
It was lust
And I still didn't run
Nobody tells me to run and when they do I don't listen
That's my problem you see
I loved him
And I fall in love way to easy
YOU ARE READING
Tiny Stories
PoetryThis book consists of poems written by myself and I would like credit given to me if you use them for anything....after all each one does hold a story
