I used to have a heart, till the first girl I loved cheated the game. She was gonna be my high-school sweetheart, turned sweet tart cause everything she did wrong was right in front of my face and it was like I lived with a blindfold cause I was blind to the fact that she had one upped me.. see you girls like to act like your angels and us men are the devils that continuously beat Tokyo down but I know for a fact that ain't true.. no matter how cute you might think I am, I still can't change the fact that I've been cheated on three times from three women I said I love you too.. the same three women that cried over me and called me perfect.. the same three women that can't keep relationships to this day due to karma biting them.. Ever since I've been living with my feeling deep inside, bringing them out in these love poems I write.. you know I hate when hoes say that hate sensitive men & when people bash Drake or The Weeknd, I'm neither sensitive nor do I hide from my feelings I just bring them out when I feel 'em.. The most disgruntled females tend to flock too me, then leave when they notice I'm not who I seem to be, but why care I've given my all to a female I thought I was gonna marry and she spit on my gestures, and I still hold on to some of that hurt till this day.. till this day I haven't given another all of me cause I'm scared they'll just throw my heart away.. what more can i say?
" You can read people. & Unless you settle yourself, you're just doing you. You know female games & sometimes to pleasure yourself , you go along with it. But then again, they may become a little more involved than you, & start to think you don't care because of your type of personality , but They still come back. Meaning that sometimes they set themselves up for getting their feelings hurt if they can't handle that , making them a masochist . But they like "the thrill" . You're mysterious , you're different . Nothing's gonna make them feel THAT real , so even if you aren't feeling it , You can give off strong vibes." - Aries..
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