I grew up and learnt of vows and constants,
but you held on to childish things.
It’s fucked up that we can’t walk away with the same things,
I now own half of a broken heart
while you wholly own our good memories,
and since you are walked away,
you got to pack the things you wanted
and I got the tattered aspects of the home we once owned.
I have a roof but no big bad wolf is required to blow it down,
after all you were the foundation that held us together.
You should have just told me you were using me to practice alphabets,
because L.O.V.E to you
was nothing but your attempt at forming words.