Who can hurt me more than myself? Though many try, I have found; not God above or Satan below, can hurt me more than I, myself. How many times have I hoped, only to have hope cut me through? How many times did I swear hope off? Only to damn myself with it time and time again. Each time swearing it off again.
Even those that surround me. All together you may try. But none will hate me more than I. Here I thought to blame my heart. To think that I could ever be loved.To be run through and hurt worse then ever before. But love is not to blame. Nor even accursed hope. I am to blame. From beginning to end. I alone am to blame.
This whole time I was searching for you. You were searching for anyone else. When I tell you I love you, your anger shows how much you ever truly cared. Did you ever love me back? All those times with you, what did you think of me then? Never before had I felt like a cheap used whore.
I waited for your reply for hours. Days. Each second going ever slower. ...