Once I was five years old, I cried over what I had lost because it was dear to me, instead of moving on I clung on to the what ifs and a future different from the one I now see,
Fifteen came by quickly and not much had changed, I still blamed people for my unhappiness and lose myself with the things I had lost,
I had convinced myself that moving on was not something I was capable off,
Now I'm twenty five, the things I think I have are not really mine, the girl I think is mine sleeps with four other guys and I can't be bothered because I got tired of things keeping me up at night.
~Robyn~
YOU ARE READING
The heart that cried wolf
Poetry~ This book contains several write ups like the one below ~ I use to think that whatever you put into the universe would always come back to you, just like a boomerang, but not all boomerangs return to their throwers, I've played the role of putting...
