So I got pretty bored and couldn't sleep, and this is the result. Can you please give me concrit, 'cause I'm not too good at poetry and want to improve. =)
You packed up your toys, pulled out of the driveway.
Off now. Suddenly I'm not good enough.
Was I better than the one before?
You said, but now I'm not so sure.
Said I made you happy.
Love. What does it mean nowadays? Happiness?
Sex? Success? You should know I can change,
bring maturity that only comes with time and experience.
And don't forget happiness.
I hate how you think I'm just a plaything now.
Now you've got your brand spanking new toy
right out of the packaging,
throw me back into the box,
break my stone cold heart.
Hurting yourself now. Mind the sharp edges, babe.
It's worth it, though; the thrill of a new game.
He plays the part well, none see through
to the cold heart, faking those smiles.
So seductive, killing you.
You said he made you happy, blissfully so.
Painfully, bloodily, bruisedly
so. His games, do you play them well?
Does he make it easy for you?
Is it just a phase?
This pain. I never would have hurt you like this.
I want you to know that when I'm gone,
when I leave you at his mercy.
I know when I'm not wanted,
'cause you're happy now.
I would stay, love you, make it better.
But you're happy now.