Teenage Years

You took my words
And you’d have taken my heart as well,
Ripped it from my chest still beating.

But I told you’d had enough.
Without my words I am lost,
And you are the one that lost me.
You took the thing you loved about me,
Hid it, left me bereft, yet said that I was still
Who I had been before.

I am not.

For words I wrote at another time
Are still true.
I
Am made
Of ink.

 

The End

51 comments about this poem Feed