He Loves Me. He Loves Me Not
Picture this.
I am standing in the middle of a garden, dressed in a sun dress with my hair tied up in a messy bun I am a dark sink girl and my feet is bare.
In my hands, I am holding a rose flower. I pluck out a petal and with ever petal I pluck out, I wispher "he loves me", "he loves me not".
When the petals have all come off, I slowly sit and curl myself into a ball. I curl myself into the smallest form I can be and laugh loudly.
I laughed because what he doesn't know is that wild hearts can't be broken.

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