For a pessimist, I'm.. never mind. I'm not optimistic.

A poem for the one who hurt me more than anyone. He'll never see this. Even if he did, he wouldn't care.

Is it wrong for me to be sorry,
To be crying at your feet?
After realizing the guilt will live on,
Because I'm not allowed to face you?

The pain will only grow with time.
As I scream and cry,
Doing anything to dull the pain and guilt.
Misery is smiling at me with his wicked grin.

I'm sorry.
A thousand, million times over.
Maybe I wasn't good enough
To have someone like you.

Eating becomes a laborous chore.
Music becomes a rope, tying me closer to you.
I shut out the world, unable to handle any of this.

I need to be alone.

I dwell in hallways, avoiding those who remind me of you.
At school, it's all the same routine.
Shutting out the world, not wanting to undo
Or ever show what I really mean.