To The Person Who Has My Heart and Chooses to Break It

I love having memories with you, and I hate the thought of missing you that my stomach twitches, and that no matter how I calm my heart, it won't stop the race.

How does it feel to have that effect on someone? Does it satisfy you to have the power to make or break a person?

If my love wasn't enough, why would you maintain your grasp?

You coat the words to show me that I am on pedestal with you, but what I failed to see up to this point is that my life became a living hell.

You love me you say, but you lie.

You can't live without me, you say, but you keep things from me.

You always bend promises.

You figure out how to wreck my happiness by causing me pain.

Just about lately, I never sleep with a smile on my face, but rather, tears on my cheek.

How did I fail to see this?

How was it possible to be human and not be humane?

You kill me everyday. You kill me every second.

Why would you take my heart and run nails to it and wound it deeply?

Why didn't you let me be so that someone will find happiness in me instead of punishing me all the years of my life with mistakes that I didn't commit?

Loving you was my choice.

Breaking me to the point of me wishing I am dead is yours.