I never imagining saying that hurtful sentence to you,
Never have I thought I would heard it from you
who I thought was friend.
To think I just made you laugh.
But in the end all you did was huff and puff.

I felt betrayed when you left me for her.
That our time has come to an end because of her
who shred you to pieces
And made you an arrogant, egoistic *******.
Who bites the hand that pet and fed.

Now I have learnt my lesson.
To never trust or bother or I'll be in prison
of my own feelings.
To never feel or cry over
a man, no, a boy who never mature.

Pathetic, you are.
Sympathetic, I am.
Both of us, idiots.

I am the fool.
You are the ****.
She is the innocent.
He is the culprit.

Trust no one.
Feel no one.
See no one.
Be no one.

How could I forget what I told myself.
Why did I put my guards down for you.
You call your life miserable.

Then, should mine be a hell?
Should hers be a special place in hell?
Should his be the pit of darkness?

What do you know about miserable
other than the word itself?
What do you know about trust
other than the act itself?
What do you know about pain
other than the feel itself?

You know nothing
Yet you act you do.
Such a fool.

Everyone knows.
Nobody bothers.
So go on and wag

Wag your long,
meaningless,
unworthy,
lifeless,
tail

See if I care.
See if I give
you another
glance. See
if I bother
handing
another
chance.

What is it?
Pray tell me.
I wish to know.
What makes love?
Why is everyone head
over heels about love?
         Why is everyone
       always talking on
     about it all the time
         What makes that
  word so very special
  Why the rise and fall
Why the up and down
   Why all over it? It is
only but a word. Please
Someone tell me why?
        I grow up thinking
Love means pain and
being in pain was a
form of love for
me. But what
is it to you?
Pray tell.

He lost sight for life since he lost her.
She lost herself since she lost him.
He decides that he has to move on.
She decides that she has to let go.

All of this because of an accident.
All of this because of a careless act.
All of this for a few seconds of contact.
All of this for a few seconds of connection.

No one knows about their next life.
Both know they will meet.
No one promises that to happen.
Both knew someone is there.

Down the street, a girl walked.
She had nothing to do so she talked.
To no one in particular but herself.
About how everything was for the good of self.

People see, people wave.
Yet no one knows, she's digging her grave.
Many passed, many heard.
All listened like she was the shepherd.

She's attractive, I'd give her that.
Though she'd still argue the world is flat.
Her heart was nice to see, nice to hold.
Once broken considered sold.

Like a displayed mannequin,
She crossed the street like a queen.
Nothing is around her.
Everything is in her.

One minute of absence.
One half minute of presence.
Two minutes of talking
Four minutes of walking

All lead to one ending
The girl lay on the floor bleeding.
Everyone rushed to help.
No one was dialing for help.

In her mind,
It was all mine.
Out her mind,
They never were mine.

The only last thought of her,
If I must say about the thought that caught her.
That vivid image of a grey shadow.
Was the last thing she sees before she willow.