You
Were the friend I thought I had
After 4 years I expected some loyalty
How foolish I was
You
Pick him over me
And tell me you enjoy the abuse
Being treated like an object
Good luck with that
You
Are the thumbtack hiding
In a box full of rose petals, waiting
Just to make me bleed, and to stain
Something sweet
Oct 16, 2013
Oct 16, 2013 at 8:50 AM UTC
You
Were the friend I thought I had
After 4 years I expected some loyalty
How foolish I was
You
Pick him over me
And tell me you enjoy the abuse
Being treated like an object
Good luck with that
You
Are the thumbtack hiding
In a box full of rose petals, waiting
Just to make me bleed, and to stain
Something sweet
Request permission to use this poem