She calls and tells me she's discovered herself. She can no longer see me as apart of her future, this self she discovered, this self I always loved in every form, can no longer love me.
My edges were always rough, filled with mistakes and awkward shades. But I changed, I broke every bone in my body, stretched within an inch of my life, as I was sculpted by her.
And now I've turned into an abandoned art piece. Incomplete. Not even worth being a memento.
So just throw me away.
Nov 3, 2015
Nov 3, 2015 at 3:30 AM UTC
She calls and tells me she's discovered herself. She can no longer see me as apart of her future, this self she discovered, this self I always loved in every form, can no longer love me.
My edges were always rough, filled with mistakes and awkward shades. But I changed, I broke every bone in my body, stretched within an inch of my life, as I was sculpted by her.
And now I've turned into an abandoned art piece. Incomplete. Not even worth being a memento.
So just throw me away.
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