I like the way you broke my heart it was almost to innocent.
You read me like you're favorite book fast and skimming the words.
You told me you had the perfect summary of me; heartbroken tragedy awaiting.
And at the time I didn't know what that meant but I get it now.
See you sketched our romance like an amateur artist.
You drew us in pencil never retracing in pen.
And I waited around for the finished work only to receive an empty page with eraser marks.
I like the way you stole my heart it was almost to easy.
You kept me around like a lost puppy; waiting for the actual owner to show up.
You told me pretty lies to make me smile not realiZing I was still crying on the inside.
And like the poet I felt I was I wrote this down for you to read.
I just wanted you to know I don't like not being able to repair this broken heart.