I understand now.
I was too much for you.
My damaged heart,
Was too much for you.
I gave you all the love in me.
Even though there was all these holes,
In my less than whole heart.
I understand now.
It wasn't me.
It was you.
A coward.
A coward with no heart.
Who told me I had no part,
In his life.
But it wasn't me.
I understand now.
My love is too much for you.
My being is too much for you.
My very essence screams value.
That you could never afford.
I understand now.
You always knew you could never afford me.
Not something of this value.
It wasn't me.
It was always you.
YOU ARE READING
She.
شِعرPoetry, scenes and short stories written from the fingertips of a girl who doesn't know her own heart. She's filled each corner with love and light that she thought was pure just to watch it rot off and fill like a gaping dark hole. But these heartb...
