It's ironic how you kicked me when I was already down
Yet when I’m back up on my two feet,
All I want to do is run back to you
You see,
It's silly how I have hope in you finally accepting who I am
But I don’t know how to tell my heart that it's never going to happen
My mind knows better
But my physical body just can’t accept it
Everyone wants what they can’t have
And for me,
It's you
It's you
It's you
It will always be ******* you
This is one of my old poems about a boy that treated me like a million dollars one day and then complete utter **** the next day. I really liked this boy, but with him, I lost my confidence and everything that I loved about myself. I sure as hell don't like him like I did before, but I'd be lying if I said I don't think about him time to time. I think I'm over him, but sometimes, I miss his touch.