Pray

Everytime I think of you it gets me angry.
Everytime I think of you I try to think anything else.
And there's this piece, this smalest part of me, that wants to cry.
But I won't let it.
Because baby, I am over.
I'm done here with you.
I'm done of your pretty awesome hands,
I'm done of your safe arms.
And I don't care about your funny way to calm me down.
I don't want it anymore.
My home got down.
You can no longer stay inside of my life. 
Neither of my heart.
I'll leave the love you gave me in a box,
And burn it down.
I'll change your name in every poem made for you, and call it past.
I'll forget about what I used to call peace,
And stop believing  in something that doesn't really exist.