You told him you'd respond.
You said that you'd talk to me.
Another lie.
Another farce.
What do you get by playing with a girl's heart?
The strings loosened.
Broken shards from her heart that you crushed.
Does it make you worth being a man?
I don't see it,
even though you were sweet,
a kind, gentle soul.
You were a piece of corruption.
Shrouded by darkness and the evil in your heart.
You deceit is a tattoo upon the skin.
The ink in ivory,
splattered in the blood of her scars opening.
You crushed her,
revealing her heart.
Bruised and poisoned too.
You aren't a man.
You're just a coward.
YOU ARE READING
I don't understand
PoetryLately, I've been pushed through a bunch of heartaches and pains. I'm lonely, but.. I'm starting to see that I dont think I matter really anymore. Is my existence really worth keeping in peoples lives?
