Months went by.
My hopes would be lifted up from the dirt.
The naive litte girl in me would think she had a chance.
Little did that girl know, he was playing her.
He took those hopes in his hands, and she let him.
She gave him the control to do whatever he wanted with them.
It was her fault.
How could she have known better, though?
How?
Because everytime she was thrown to the ground he picked her
up.
And everytime he picked her up, he was the one to throw her back
down.
mine.
just trying to get over writers block.