Heartless
Is your heartless breaking? Aching?
Or is your heartless taking another breath,
drawing back with fist clinched to strike again?
Never thought I could try so hard to hate someone,
and fail every time;
because it might be easier if I could hate you both.
I say it out loud, in attempt to make it real,
but the fact that you chose her over me is the only real thing I see.
And it's that fact, that holds me down,
hands clutching my neck,
strangling every breath from coming.
Again and again,
all I feel is relentless fear of memories.
Like the one when you said, "I don't love you anymore."
And then your corrections saying, "Maybe I never did."
So instead, I'll hold onto what is right in front of me.
Nothing.
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