On a bright Sunday morning,
she murdered expectations without a weapon, but with a truce,
She made a truce with her heart
could no longer fuck with her,
even if it meant that sometimes she had to buy books
instead of pretty flowers.
You see, people are made of flesh and bone. And blood.
And their actions hurt if you rely on them.
But if you can only hold on
And hold out for the “fuck you”
Buried deep in your consciousness,
Nobody can ever hurt you
© Crystal Belle 2016