Ugh, I didn't even feel bad for stealing it....He asked me what I liked, I just agreed with what I thought he liked. Oh my god. Life sucks.Long story short he said he loved me. I mean...awesome right. I said I loved him. He said my name, that was my real name. He gave me his heart. I didn't steal it. I just, I didn't think I did. And then I realised I did after a week. But I didn't wanna give it back. Because it's so fucking hard to get someone to love you. To trust you...to want you. And he used my name. It was me. But it wasn't he didn't give me his heart.
He gave a ginger his heart. He gave somebody who likes going to the mall his heart. He gave a pretty girl who wears nice clothes, and likes wearing nice clothes his heart. Not some bitch who steals clothes, from the mall.. Hates the mall. And make up and being pretty. And stupid, ugly...I don't know why my hair was dyed red. Lol, its black now so it's whatever. Pfft...like my soul. Lol. I even stole his soul. I made him sad.
YOU ARE READING
Heart Thief
PoetryUGH. read it and weep. It is sad, it is terrible. But it is mine. And so I stand by it. Lol
