here's a story
about a little girl in her room
thinking about all the things that could be
and asking herself who matters to who
and why she matters to you
and what if i told you that little girl is me.
Now, Mae. I hate you. The "memories" we made deteriorated into nothing the moment you chose what you did. Goodbye, if it means anything to one such as you.
YOU ARE READING
I'll Be Fine (pt. 1 of 2)
Poetrypoetry showing my stress. relieving, coping, really. continuing to add poems, sometimes daily. use this as place to talk about your own frustrations and dances with pain and strife apparently wattpad limits the number of parts you can have, so I'm s...
