Go ahead,
push me up against the wall
and whisper sweet nothings in my ear,
tell me all the things she wanted to hear.
Put your hands around my neck,
slam me down on our bed,
put me in the same position you put her.
Go ahead,
hurt me more than you already have.

I was never good enough for you, was I?
Don't even try to form a lie,
because if I was good enough,
you wouldn't have gone to her.
Or maybe the problem isn't me, it's you.
Maybe you just can't be satisfied?
Why are you getting so defensive?
Did I hit a nerve?
Oh, you're getting angry now,
but I fail to understand why.
If I could've contained my anger when I walked in
and saw you in our bed with her,
I'm sure you can contain yours.
I'm simply stating facts,
the truth hurts, doesn't it?

I've never wanted to hurt you,
but you've set out to hurt me.
I've forgiven you a million and one times,
yet you just slap me in the face afterwards.

How was she?
Was she good?
Was she better?
Was she worth it?

I hope she was,
because if she wasn't,
she just caused you to lose the one person who
was always there for you.
You've hurt me too many times now,
I'm done. //

           05.26.16
                 -          Poet
                             (db)