You give your heart so willingly.
You say you have walls, yet you trust so easy, love so easily.
You've let people walk all over you so they wouldn't step in the mud, meanwhile you are shoved underground, yours lungs no longer breathing oxygen.
When you have your heart broken you always go back to the breaker.
You always go running back thinking their arms will be wide open.
Hoping their arms will be wide open.
But they never are.
Despite being pushed back by those arms and heart, you keep being friends with them.
Pretending it doesn't hurt.
You always fucking pretend.
You give yourself wholeheartedly while they spit in your face, and throw your heart away.
I wish I could say I wasn't one of those breakers, but I was the first of many.
You pretended with me.
For months you pretended.
I know there are masks on your face, permanently, but after all we've been through I expected you to be a little open with me.
Even though I walked all over you, I get beyond furious when you let people do that to you.
I hate that you put others above yourself.
You need to be selfish every once in a while, if only to keep from getting broken all over again.
