Dear You

A letter to him:





Dear you,
  All those laughs together has been a lie.
  All those sweet nothings you've said were lies.
  All those times you've said you've wanted to be with me
  were lies.
  All those times you've kissed me,
  held me,
  and said you've loved me,
  were nothing but bold lies.
  Lies that have been letting me hold on for so long.

  I've loved you for several years.
  You've broken my heart many times.
  And yet you still come back for more.
  You know you always hurt me.
  You know you always make me cry.
  Yet you still come back for more.
  I think about you constantly,
  no matter how much I secretly hate you.
  This must be the end for us.
  I cannot love you no more.
  My heart has been shattered too many times.
  And you're frankly not worth it anymore.
  I wish I could see the look on your face.
  The last look I'll ever see on your face.
  We are done.

  I cannot love someone,
  whom is in love with someone else.
  Who, in the matter, is not in love with them back.
  I could do so much better.
  So goodbye forever.
  This was your lost.
  You lost someone good.
  You damned prick.

  She had nothing on me.
  Don't you understand?
  I would've never cheated,
  I would've never argued angrily.
  I would've gave you endless love
  And an endless amount that
  would have been
  intoxicating to the soul.

  Goodbye precious friend.
  Goodbye until you've grown.
  Because you will always be in my heart.
  Since you were my first love.

  Or maybe everything I thought
  were lies, were actually truths.
  You just didn't know how to express yourself.
  Nevertheless, if that was the case,
  you need to express feelings better.
  I know I have done my part,
  now it's time to do yours.

  Maybe you didn't spend time with her.
  Maybe you're home doing nothing.
  Not answering my texts for some reason,
  Not answering my phone calls.
  Or maybe you are with her.
  Making sweet love to someone who thinks it's sex.
  Maybe you're whispering sweet nothings into her ears.
  Or maybe you're dead.
  Well, Sir, if that's the case,
  then at least my suffering will be over.

  Oh, and by the way,
  That broken heart that's in my sketch book
  That you drew,
  Is still unfinished.
  Be a man and finish it.
  Finish the story.
  My story depends on you.
  Because you're the pussy who broke a girls heart
  To be with a girl whom doesn't love you.
  Idiot.