By Allie Marie

Your words meant to sound so sweetly justified

slip delicately on all the things you try to deny.

And so if I am destined on mediocrity,

maybe I will learn to fly on broken wings.

And so it is revealed that I’m just a young pretty little thing

meant to wear and make pretty things.

You can’t see it.

I am giving you a chance at a wide eyed glace,

and you still choose to see

that you are the one helping me.

There are better ways and better ways

to learn to say goodbye.

I am sorry for you.

Maybe you really don’t know what you do.


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