Loving you.
Is harder than it seems.
I've loved, and lost.
And lost some more.
You're a full frontal attack.
And I can't take it anymore.
I've loved you.
Hurt you.
Hated her.
Hated myself.
My love for you I put on display.
The pain I felt.
Dismay.
If I could point out on a map how I feel in-between despair, and self loathing I would.
But I can't.
You're a rose.
Beautiful.
But sharp.
Your thorns cut me.
Like your words through my heart.
I try to pass the time away.
With a lie.
I try to pass the time away.
With a knife.
I asked for forgiveness.
And I asked for help.
I asked for your heart.
I asked.
But you wouldn't tell.
Living.
Dieing.
Consumed by your lying.
I hope that You loved me.
I hope that you're hurt.
I hope you dare to write.
Even if it's just one word.
Love.
