They said how your heart races and butterflies developing your stomach only happens when someone you love is holding you

I used to have that

except that was not past no longer part of me butterflies rise so high I feel anxious

I used to miss that his lips hands touch boys and sense of security he gave me

he has it rough that doesn't mean I don't care for him anymore I still think of him everyday but he played me like a broken violin that lost their strength has only Few Strings left because it was left in the attic untouched in the banded and alone I was played used and dissected to see vulnerable parts of myself

I was naked the countless amounts of mistakes he made I always forgived Him because then I could not imagine not being with him and I know I look young when I'm tired of hearing that typical
"Your to young you don't know what love is" because let me tell you you don't know how I feel you almost finished had because you're not me


the definition of love doesn't come from a number called age or even the number of weight or the number and in jeans