I don’t like sharing, I never have. When you told me of you being shared. I wanted to quit instantly. But no promise was made for you to be mine. Your meanness pierces me as it pierces you, hurting your loved ones isn’t something you like doing. It’s why your heart is of ice, but it guards a familiar warmth, which I see in myself. Do I look past it or leave? Life is hurtful when it makes it look easy but ends up eating me alive while I smile.

-Anonymous