People like the idea of me.
They like that I'm always there.
They like that I keep things vague.
They don't push it because it's like a choose your own adventure.
They don't truly get to know me
Why would they, I can be whoever they want.
I can morph into what they want or need.
No-one will ever like me for me
But that's my fault I suppose
I don't open up to people.
I think it's in everyones best interest
That I stay the mystery girl they want
And not the broken shell they can't see.
YOU ARE READING
Thoughts Of A Broken Girl
PoetryWARNING this is my safe-space. Please understand I've written these over years. Im not a freshman in high-school anymore so I like to think it gets less cringe. But welcome to my mind.
