Private, Precious Pieces.

I was in class one day zoning out and I wrote this untitled poem. I don’t know if I was in my feelings or what, but I just wrote what came to mind.

I’ve since flipped through my notebook and re-read the poem and I must say… its not to bad for my first real poem! Let me know what you think!



But never defeated

Mistreated and misguided

Yet  I possess an overflow of kindness

I am reminded of my faults

But what he needs when he wants what he wants

So he texts me like “wyd”

No “hello” “lets go out” “how was your day”  “what you need?”

Just “wyd”

And he wonders why I respond so dry

1 a.m. like you already know why

Legs soon end up to the sky

You see… I am just a object to him

A toy he can put down

But in me he drowns, enjoying every sound

Then leaves like fall to winter

And when I call he doesn’t pick up

But when he calls its just his luck

Because I am weak

That is how he has made me

Pretend feelings

Pretending he cared

Saying he’d be there

Knowing all I went through, but still put me through the same thing

Made me feel the same emotions


Am I not good enough?

Am I too much?

Why do I question myself instead of him?

Because I know I can win

But I settle

Going against my heart. a rebel.

Waiting for a real man to come along

Right the last man’s wrongs

To make me whole again

As I am picking up the pieces

Broke but not broken


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