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.