They say to love something is to suffer for it
Well, I'm pretty sure I loved you because, I can't even remember the good times we had anymore
All I look back and see is the FOOLISH girl waiting on the borderline, praying, hoping, pleading for your return
I stood there even when I was well aware of her presence
When I was well aware of where you were when you weren't with me... And couldn't be bothered to answer your phone
I laid by the borderline and cried endless tears night after night
Awaiting a return that deep down I knew was NEVER coming
So I have suffered
But, I don't have you
So what did I suffer for exactly?
To watch you build a life with her? The life I thought we had?
To be strung along for months before getting cut off completely
Just left standing in the dust of who I THOUGHT you were
The suffering didn't stop when the truth hit
Or when my head kept telling my heart to give it up
I wanted so desperately not to want you
Not to need you
But thoughts of you.. Of us..
Just consumed my head.. My heart..My life
It eventually got better
I started meaning the goodbyes that I'd been saying for so long
You appeared less and less in my mind
It seemed the suffering was coming to an end
Though I gained NOTHING from it
I know I never crossed your mind even close to how many times I caught myself daydreaming over you
Did you even give a second glance to the girl who literally was holding her heart in her hands... Offering it all to you?
Do memories of any kind ever flood your mind?
NEVERMIND
If I start to go there, the suffering just starts all over again
And I'm lost in a past love, a past game, a past heartbreak that I can no longer feel
Or I will drown inside my sorrow
So tell me, how much more suffering would I have to do to have you?
How much more suffering do I have to do to be OVER you???
Cause she hasn't felt nearly the amount of hurt that I have
Yet she has you...
And here I am, STILL writing about you
Still SUFFERING...
For nothing
For absolutely nothing

Those scars.
Those cuts on your wrist.
They show the pain you've felt.
They tell stories of the past.
Of a time not so long ago.
Times of terror and struggle.
Times of great pain.
But for every dark side there is a light.
Those stories of sorrow are rewritten.
With one single kiss of my lips.
For each kiss I rewrite those stories.
The ones of us.
Tales of beauty and passion.
Tales of love and peace.
I'll always be there sitting and cutting my hands on the broken glass of her heart that shatters when she runs that razor on her wrist.
But thats okay.
Because in the end that heart will have my name written across it.
Because Im the one who is there to pick up the pieces.
This is not a poem of sorrow.
Not pain.
Not sadness.
But a poem of promise and love.
A poem to make the pain go away.
Darling I promise, I swear.
Darling, you'll be okay.