"The nice part about being a pessimist is that you are constantly being either proven right or pleasantly surprised."
Pixels glaring, mocking me as usual. Like words in digital fashion are not as paining as the ones leaking from your lying lips. You don't want to hurt me anymore. You are done lying to me... now that the knife is already deep in my chest you want to yank it out quickly. Pretend the bleeding is going to stop by itself. I will stitch it up myself, but all you will do is run the blade down the stitches softly popping each one again. Your not going to put the blade back in... the damage is already done. Finish the job. Pretending to care only make it burn more.
Everything I hold in my hands crumbles, I whimper and grasp but wind blows it out between my fingers. Clutching chest, beating in my ears... humming saddest love song. Hair sticking to face, staring through the dark, glaring. Pain. Only pain. Can you feel the heat. It hurts so much because it meant so much. The more you love the more it hurts... when you learn the love was a lie.
To give me all your love is all I ever asked.
