Can't Love Me

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My mum told me about pick pockets
Ones that creep behind you
Taking everything in your jean sockets
And disappear in the wind like dew

She never told me that someone would
Rip the heart I hid in my sleeve
Or just pierce it from where it stood
Leaving it wrecked by eve

She told me about the blabber mouths
That spoke in exclamation and fiery words
Even if they were in your own house
They lashed their tongues like sharpened swords

She never told me that four words could cut me open
Leaving me in angst and distress too
Even if someone said it like they were long gone and broken
" I can't
love
you "

My mom warned be about a lot, a bit too much
Told me to keep my eyes open for pick pockets, line cutters and blabber mouths too
All in disguise;Penny pinchers, murderers, con-artists and such
But I wish she told me to keep my eyes open, for people like you

[a/n]: I've read a whole lot of poems similar to this, so I thought I might give it a try?

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