it hurt to breathe, hurt to talk. i felt used. violated. it hurt to walk the halls of my school knowing he won, knowing he got what he wanted then left. he told me loved me, that i was amazing, gorgeous, everything he wanted. it hurt he lied. it hurt telling people i was okay everytime they asked. hurting made me weak & vulnerable.
i was tired of feeling this way.
it hurt to cry. but crying watered the flowers in my lungs that died when he left, and they grew. they grew so tall that they wrapped around my broken heart and casted it together again. it had scars and missing pieces, but it was together.
