Dear me,
I'm sorry for the scars, but lifes been kind of hard. I'm getting pretty tired, and whoever spoke of happiness is a liar.

My scars remind me of everything I've done wrong

No longer my choice
To keep him around
My need for him
Like gravity needs
The ground.

I could be your tinkerbell
If you promise to be my peterpan
And take me off to Neverland

Take the'l' out of 'lover' and its 'over'