You say you want me for me.
Thats not true, I get old quick.
You like I'm independent and mysterious.
You like I have goofy moods and serious moods.
You like these things about me until it doesn't suit you anymore.
Until the mystery becomes walls you cant break down.
Until the moods don't align with yours.
Until you see I'm independent to a fault and don't text you or call you back quickly.
You like me until you realize theres nothing deeper than what you first saw.
You like me until you give up on me.
Most people aren't patient enough to truly break the walls down.
No one knows me, they know the me that mirrors them.
I once had a man say he truly loved me and always will.
But its a lie, though he thought it to be true.
But the only truth is that I get old and people get impatient.
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.
