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My poems are sad, yet they make me glad, they bring me joy. I mock you and your actions and it makes me content, with how you left. Broken down, in my weakest state you sent me the pictures, revealed your true face. Blame myself, but truly it's you, wish for the best for the pair of you.
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Dec 22, 2015
Dec 22, 2015 at 11:07 AM UTC
Taylor Thrift
My poems are sad, yet they make me glad, they bring me joy. I mock you and your actions and it makes me content, with how you left. Broken down, in my weakest state you sent me the pictures, revealed your true face. Blame myself, but truly it's you, wish for the best for the pair of you.
Closure for a wound that's been open for far too long. Peace Enjoy the south Oshawa filth willow in pity where you belong. Apparently I can be a ****
cya
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Dec 22, 2015
Dec 22, 2015 at 11:07 AM UTC
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