I can’t believe that this could be.
Being stuck in love with someone who don’t love me.
A curse that I must bear around my heart.
Although I am still alive, it’s broken apart.
I didn’t ask to fall for him; I didn’t want this pain.
I am tired of being the loser of Love’s twisted game.
I am tired of blaming myself for lacking what he likes.
Do I weight too much or am I just not his type?
It hurts that he loves the man who made him cry.
What about me? I dried his eyes.
He hit him, but he still gave his all.
What about me? I kissed the scars.
I was everything a man could want. It’s true.
But everything was only enough for me to be a substitute.
Everyone else could see that he had my heart.
But no one knew how him and his love was ripping me apart.
So, I grabbed the blade to ease the hurt.
I slit my wrist after writing this note:
“I was in love, but you were not.
So I cut my love out with every drop.
Don’t blame yourself for not being able to see.
My heart hurt too much, I had to stop the beat.”
 
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