The man who said he was a giver,
Chose to put his feelings first.
My vulnerability made him waver,
As if being vulnerable was a curse.

The man who said he didnt want to hurt me,
Led me on to believing i had a chance.
When we cuddled in the corner of the backseat,
Butterflies in my tummy started to dance.

He strung me along like a puppet,
Orchestrated a plan that was so wrong.
He played me like a trumpet,
Perfect tune to my favourite song.

A fool i was to believe every word.
Still, he is worse for being such a coward.
Being vulnerable does not mean I am weak,
It means I'm strong enough to weather through the bleak.
Maybe one day he will finally understand
That trying not to hurt me, hurt me in the end.