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Do I make your butterflies shrivel up and die?
Do I make you want to lose your mind?
Do I make you feel haunted with every step you take?
Do I make you lose your appetite at any dinner plate?
Do I make you so damn scared you want to run and hide?
Because that's all the things that you're making me feel.
Oh, honey, this wasn't supposed to be a horror show.
You were supposed to be the only person that I know.
But you try to steal my soul right from my body.
Feed off my happiness like a leech.
I'd prefer to be happy.
Than to be with you.
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YOU ARE READING
Finding Myself I ▽
Poetry"She painted her soul with words and displayed the pain for all to observe." Where a girl is learning how to love herself and the complicated life she lives.
