I hate to think that it was always her
The late calls the late texting and laughters
The days when you never showed up
It was all for her
I hate to think it was never meant to be me
That it was her you chose over me
That i never mattered
I hate it that she is the one you taking home
As I stand and stare at Your figures
Dissapearing into the dark Night
I hate to think of it
I hate that i still think of it
I just hate it
YOU ARE READING
Tales Of The Heart
PoetryStories of a broken heart and a lost soul that is still pushing to move on and find a life ,in poetry form. Memories still stuck in the mind yet the pain so deep to bear. Struggles too many to withstand but with time it gets better.
