When I was 16, I met a boy who promised me the world, but I didn't have the strength to fight his battles or the wars I created in my own head. When I was 17, I met a boy who told me that the point of living was to live as if you'd die tomorrow, so I took his hand and he killed me the next morning. When I was 18, I met a boy who told me he loved me if I bought him the world, so I did and he left when I had nothing left to give. When I was 21, I met a boy who told me he couldn't love me, so I did everything to show him he could, and he left with my broken heart in his hands.
I met a man when I was 22 who promised to sew my broken heart back together. He did, and used pieces of his heart to fill in the broken gaps that were still left in mine.
YOU ARE READING
The Story of Us
PoetryThis is a story that holds more truth than fiction, written in verse and short stories.
