I gave you everything.
All of me.
Sincerely.
But you!
You hurt me.
You had to ruin me.
You break me into pieces.
You held on to me for your own good.
I was never the one.
Never.
You always had another.
I was just your toy.
Your playmate.
But I let it slide.
I kept holding on.
And here I am.
Hurt.
Again.
YOU ARE READING
The Little Things
PoetryOne shots. Relatable things. For girls, And guys. For muslims, And muslimah. For all, That needed to let things out, To clear your mind, To explain the pain, The anger, The trust, The hatred, The love, The little things.
