I wish we met each other first.
Maybe then, we could've been happy. Maybe then, we would've taken care of each other.
Maybe.
YOU ARE READING
I Give Up
PoetryThis is the story of how you hurt me. It starts with you, and that girl who broke your heart. When she left, off you went-walking around, trying to figure things out. It starts with me, and that boy who broke mine. When he left, I lost all my color...
