I want my heart back if you haven't already burned it with all of the pictures and love notes.

The heart that I have now is made of tissue paper.


Every woman can see right through it.

Who wants that responsibility?

You ruined me and I replaced all of the time I spent looking at you with time I'm now spending looking at the bottom of a bottle of $6 gas station vodka.

I get enjoyment doing things that you hate because I want you to know that you aren't in control of me. 

And for what seemed like forever, I was so accepting of being crafted into your boy toy. 

You could take me anywhere and impress anyone because your say so was in my wardrobe.

And in my bathroom telling me to shave my face.

It was at my barber, telling me to trim my hair up.

It was in my car telling me to listen to today's best hits.

You were in my head telling me to hate people you believed were inferior.

You were in MY FEELINGS, telling me to dislike someone just because they pissed you off. 

But now, the only place you are is on my list of regrets.

And honestly, you're not even welcome there.

The End

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