L
Literature
Lover of Mine The plant that you gave me died, reminds me how long you've been gone this time. It's hard to hold you, I forgot what it feels like to love you all I remember is how it felt to fall through, I don't want someone new, but there's nothing left for me to hold onto. I know your friends hate me, and I hate them too, you say they have their reaons for why they do, but I know what you say about me isn't ever true. . Paint me as a villan, you were always an artist at heart, knowing which strings to pull to tear me apart. Painting my world blue, this misery is made for two, my mind is a mess, a mosaic, that you call "art" and you shattered me into smaller, more manageable pieces from the start. Trying to put myself back together, but some things you can't undo, and some people in my past I still have not outgrew. We're both older, you're colder, but I still adore your empty eyes, while I sit, you stutter, and keep spinning your web of lies. In fact, i'd be aware of every trap, but blindly
