He wanted comfort.
He wanted answers and explanations.
He wanted me to be his saving grace.
He used my answers and explinations against you.
You needed me.
You trusted me.
You loved me.
You cried when I told you what I had done.
I spilt your life story.
I told him everything.
I let him break your heart.
I fucked up and I cant fix it this time
YOU ARE READING
Not A Poet, But A Reader
Poesie"things won't get better is you're gone. you can't feel relief if you're a carcass. if it's the shadows that you're running from, remember that dead eyes only see darkness." A collection of poems that I love and want to share. All poems go to their...
