The Day That Started
I wrote about the love thats in your eyes,
The love I hold for you in each smile
And then, I feel the sting of your hand,
And the cut of your words,
That slices me like a knife through paper,
A serated blade.
And for what,
Because I had to go in early,
Because I lost your e-cigerette,
Though you've lost mine six billion times,
Which is why I no longer have it.
Because I wasnt fast enough to give you your smokes.
Why?
Just so you can ruin Christmas for me,
Like you ruined my Birthday,
Like my mother ruined my life.
Oh how you would love to know,
That Ive just compared you to the one woman you hate,
You utterly despise,
You loath.
And yet you treat me the exact way she did,
With bitter words,
And a hand that hits,
And no regard for the tears I cry.
And to think,
This started off as a good morning,
With hugs and kisses,
snuggles in bed,
Five more minutes,
We were both sleepyheads,
You said Merry Christmas eve,
And I said it first,
It started as a good day,
For all it was worth.
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