If it's easy like breathing,
I'd let it out of my chest,
I'd hold my breath, get rid of you,
Until there's nothing left, I'm dead.
Remember the first time you killed me?
You left, came back said sorry,
I was a fool to forgive my murderer,
Who cares? I love you anyway.
I'm broken by you,
And it's you who can fix me,
But I know you can't now,
You don't glue things up,
When you find them useless.
I feel so useless, cheated on,
To think you're with her,
When I still want you with me.
Isn't it unfair?
Remember I was your everything
Before you loved hurting me,
And I still love you.
Is it a sin to love a sinful person?
Is it wrong to love someone who does wrong?
What's the point of fixing things and breaking them again?
I'd rather be broken,
I'd rather be played than feel nothing at all.
This was a poem I wrote exactly 6 years ago. I actually don’t remember the inspiration for this piece, and the idea’s a bit messy but I was really intrigued- whatever it was I was going through when I wrote this must’ve been very painful.