I love how my friendships all seem to end in blackened ashes
I hand them the sticks to light up my heart full of match's
With a flick of your wrist it all ends up in flames
But why should I speak , for I'm the one to blame
I handed you my heart ,only so I could fall apart,not so alone
So when my days get heavy I'd have someone to phone
I'm sure your all asking
For why should she give her heart , does she yonder to get it broken ?
The answer To the perplexing question is I only give it away to calm the emotions that have awoken
YOU ARE READING
Buried secrets
PoetryTell me how to find the will to live when your already dead . I'm 15 years old and this is the thoughts that haunt me ....
