Mirrors of my life and yours, my poems cut deep because of the truth in them.
Heavy with burdens, lonely with space,
Her only expression is the sadness on her face,
Which she masks with Anger.
Hurt me, I'll show hate,
You’ve went through the beginnings,
Waiting for his call,
You’ve heard all the “I love you’s”,
And now you know they meant nothing at all.
Why do you own me?
How could I let you rip out my heart?
Throw it over your shoulder onto the ground,
And then I pick it up and hand it back to you.