You told me to count days
Saying maybe it'll make things better
I think keeping track hurts more
Each day it reminds you of something you long for
And each day, it seems so distant
a constant reminder of how you're slowly getting further
from what you once had

Something I once knew
Something I once felt

Feelings I once had
Feelings I once dealt

Something I crave so bad
Something I may have once had

A feeling so cruel
A feeling so minimal

A feeling of distance
You feeling some resistance

Maybe I should risk it
Or maybe I should walk away

Why do we care so much for the people who only hurt us yet make us melt?
Why do we try to play with fire & risk getting burned for the thrill of it?
Why do we sit there for hours at night without speaking- just laying there looking at the stars hoping maybe we'll find the answer to love and why we can't stop feeling it for the person who's toxic and does nothing but tear us down?
Why do we crave physical contact and the touching of lips to another's when in an instant it can get pulled from you like a cherry on a tree?
Why is it that we decide so quickly that we dislike a person even if we don't know them? Why do we dislike people for hollow reasons such as appearance when the existence of a human being depends on more than just what they see in a mirror?
Why does it hurt when I catch you glancing at me and we suddenly look away?
Why is it a crime that I loved you? That I love you?
Why does everything I do end up being wrong?
Why does life hate me and make me suffer from whatever I think might end up being good?
Why am I so lonely?
Why do I still love you?
Why does silence hurt because all I can hear is your voice whispering "I love you" when that was never something you said to me?
Why do I think about you every single day when it's been three months and you don't give one **** about me?
Why can't I stop loving you?
Why do I keep having to wake my friend up in the middle of the night so that I can complain about how much I love you and how it's been three months and we haven't spoken- you hate me.
Why does the only thing I think about as I look at the meaningless pages in my math book have to relate to that lonely boy in the back of the class who's dad is in jail? Who's dad left him alone at home all the time with no food for several hours or even days? Why did his dad treat him like that? Why does he treat me like this? Why do I love him? Still...

I will feel everything until I don't
And I sit there with the dry tears on my face feeling nothing but anger for the way i let you treat me and the way you think you can just walk away as if everything you just did to me means nothing to you
All the time that we spent with each other is like a waste for you
I think that I'm over you then i'll hear a song or i'll see a picture of us or i'll put on your old hoodie
Everything i loved about you that I tried so hard to push away
It all rushes back
I can't pinpoint what I miss; if its you or if its the few good memories we had
I don't know why it's so easy for me to block out all your *******
It is extremely greedy and unfair of you to have these moods that are unpredictable, and making me worry about them, making me feel like you don't care about me
It's terrible that I'd have to wake up hoping that it would be a good day for you, and you'd be in a good mood which means you might kiss my forehead when you walk away
I cannot believe I had to count how many times you kissed me; for the record it was only six
I cannot believe i let myself think that I was the problem, that I was the issue or the burden that made you unhappy all the time
I cannot believe i let myself fall into such a deep hole that i stayed by your side savoring your good days; I could count them all on one hand
I cannot believe that i let your history redirect my thinking and wire my brain into thinking that all your problems were because of me
You can't go back in time, you can't take away your past; but you should be able to separate yourself and treat people like humans and not objects
Not toys that you can leave on the shelf for a few days with only a little bit of dust to "brush off"
You see, dust it dust
Scars are permanent, you can't brush them away like dust
I should be able to feel important, i deserve to be loved
and all I see are the few simple times you told me I was pretty or you pushed back my hair
Those things shouldn't be uncommon if you love someone, you should want to show them how important they are too

But again, you didn't love me
I loved you