Book Of Poems

Untitled Part 7

If I can picture my self as an object

I feel like I would be a glass cup

Pretty to look at , easy and light to pick up

But so fragile

Every word spoken to me , everything that hurts me... crack I slowly fall apart

"Why cant he see me"... crack

" your such a whore"... crack

"You think he would ever want you" .....crack

To be loved I have to bring myself down

I have to look at all the things wrong

I have to chase and cry and sometimes lie to myself

I'm at the edge of the table

I put everyone's feelings before mine

Does it really matter if I'm here or not

My heart aches and cries so loud

One final word.....until IM BROKEN!