You never said you loved me. You never said you cared.
At least you never lied.
I'm the one that lied when I bled for you. You never knew.
I laid out my heart in words you never understood.
Then you went away.
I waited. I cried. And then I waited some more.
I did it all for you, every word, every thought, every feeling inside my heart.
But you left anyway.
You are out there now. Somewhere.
With her. Or maybe it's a him. I don't know. You would never share that with me.
Never with me.
I wanted to see you being free. I wanted it to be with me.
But you didn't want it. You didn't want me.
Then I felt nothing.
I couldn't stop it; I bled for you. Cutting deep into my flesh so that I could feel something.
And then that day, I saw you again, and I felt something, finally.
It was loss.
And I knew that would never be enough.
Not for me, and certainly not for you.
It didn't make you stay, and it didn't make me stop.
You weren't even there when they came to take me away.
I cried out for you. I screamed your name and you never even knew.
It's okay. I am safe now. Safe from myself. Locked away behind cold walls.
They watch me almost constantly. Monitoring my every waking moment.
But they cannot take my thoughts.
Even now, I still dream of you; I still see your face every time I close my eyes.
And inside my mind, I still feel the loss of you.
Sometimes they are careless and I live for those moments.
When I can let go of the ache as the blood flows freely from my veins once again.
The memory of you is a constant torment;
A cutting sickness I will always crave.
I will never be free from this place; nor from you.
You are my darkest secret and the reason for my scars.
I love you; and it means nothing.