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By angieubaldo Date: 2002 Apr 08 Comment on this Work [[2002.04.08.10.50.11397]] |
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god I miss you so much when I breathe, it hurts when I walk I seek you when I open my eyes, I blink hoping to see you there, but you are gone I pushed you away made you hate me as much as I hate myself. so now we are even, we both love you we both hate me. we used to meet in the middle but I pushed you off this see saw of love, and kicked you while you were down, and I sit there grounded without your weight, you love to lift me up. nothing I can say, nothing I can do, can rectify this situation and my pain just multiplies with each breath, with each falling tear, makings its way down my made up face, make up the hides the pain, that hides how I feel, that mask I wear to ellude from the fact that I am completely empty inside I am a cracker jack box with no prize. all my pain just came out, and I can only imagine how you felt, when I looked at you with rage in my eyes and told you to "fuck off!" I am sorry, I drowned in cosmopolitans and sambuca. the glass was just so pretty... and I am sorry in never realized how much you loved me I was to wrapped up in pointing out your flaws. that night all seems like a dream, and vague nightmare, but its reality. I wish I could go back to the day I first met you and warn you about how I am how I am selfish cruel and unkind and how I have so many different faces, the one you love will be gone, like a crony trend, and you will be left with my face that's out of style I will metamorphosis into your worst nightmare. but at least that night my shoes were cute my skirt emphasized me ass, my curves, and my slutty thong. that guy at the bar told me I was beautiful, and that he loved my accent, I had my fifteen minutes of fame, and I said he was cute for a British guy... what can I do but move on, try to forget, and pray that next time I will do it differently not like before you, when I was a doormat and not like how we were when I walked all over your heart. but I will be able to walk beside someone hand and hand and not drown in cosmopolitans and sambuca... and not freak out over some girl who kissed my man at a club. I can't even remember what she looks like, I can't even remember what I saw, but I can remember how much I love you... how much with every breath I mumble softly, "I'm sorry...." |