Through all the tears, it's still you i can see.
Only you.
I wish I knew why the broken pieces of my heart yearn only for you, why I torture myself with loving you with all the useless remaining pieces.
Is it pity that keeps me here? Stubborness? Naivety? Hope that true love exists? Or perhaps self loathing?
Whatever the reason, the outcome is the same, the ending never changes and it's never a happy one.
A broken promise, A broken fairy tale, A broken heart.
Is that all life has to offer me? Tainted things? Only ever the debree of purety, beauty and happiness? Half a life, for half a soul.
It's after years of bloodstained cheeks, the relentless question "why", realising that yes, it is possible for my heart to keep breaking, that pain has no limit and is a silent assailant focused on me, that I am forced to admit that not even after a million fights could I hate you.
You can whisper those lies that squeeze my tears out, You can pull my strings just for a thrill,
You can break every part of me.
But remember this; sooner or later you will look into the mirror and not recognise the monster staring back, covered in the blood of the one who loves him most.
