And here i begin...
i cant help but to feel cheated and that I've been set on fire. if maybe this can get through to you. i think but i wish not that you've lost interest in the woman that you say you love. i cant help but to think about the things that you did that hurt me the most and yet, you didn't and still don't notice how much pain you've brought to my mind. i understand at that point you had your own stress. looking back and being sought as the passer by in the situation i noticed and yet already knew i had the short end of the spoon, i got nothing from the experience except a lesson that i have yet to learn... the woman who bore a mans child and left with nothing but a bad memory and poor health. The cramp in my knees make it hard to walk up the stares built on the stoop of your porch that leads to the door of your cold house. Your bitterness of mind has locked me out so it seems, it makes me sad.
To make me feel worse, your wondering eyes? if that wasn't a slap in the face enough... the only thing i had you promise, after we had left together in the back seat, was to be well. even still I have yet to see you visit a doctor. You hardly keep a promise. I only have small favors to ask of you and its too much, too stressful, asking you to just take a little bit of your day and talk to me, BE PASSIONATE. absolutely no passion, not like their use to be. You admit, you pushed me away and you still somewhat do.
I don't get a break, not one break and you say that you're stressed? you are stressed but you can't listen to me when i need you. When i need you you can't be there.
In my dream, I die, I wait and wait and wait, you never show up. you were never there. I was always there and never left your side.
it seems like everything we've been through meant nothing to you. I eat all my regrets and for you, it just blows over. I'm left with the physical and mental scars. It's cold in your heart, its cold. your house, cold. your mind, cold. all of you cold and bitter yet i taste the sweetness left behind from your sadism.
You show the loss. Just take my hand, pick me up, mend our bridges, dance under the moonlight with the rhythm of the music, please, stop my hurt, just stop me...
I can't go on living with these angry thoughts that are left unsaid, feelings hurt that haven't even been given a single sorry. It feels like I'm being put on hold, because something else is more important. My happiness is to be put on hold? What if its too late? I fear that your loss of interest, or what seems to be loss of interest, will lead to you finding someone better.i know their is better for you then me. You wonder why my jealousy gets the best of me? I'm tired of feeling this way. I'm dome with it.
Please, just lift me up, my spirits have been broken, my soul only a wounded burden in the face of your perfection, so it seems. I am your embarrassment, I am the reminder of which you wish had never happened and I am forced to live with that.
What was all of this to you? What was I to you?