unrequited love pierces through my chest - a bloodied dagger stabs my heart and drains me dry but somehow i survived
you have blood on your hands.
yet somehow it's my fault for causing the perforation simply because you're unwilling to see, to admit, that i was defending my already wounded heart from further betrayal
remember this -
desposing the knife, moving to far and distance places and eventually finding your way back home, to me, does not give you the right to seek my warmth and comfort after you've been stabbed by someone else.
**** me, why don't you. Own up to the part you played instead of continuing to torment and destroy whatever is left of my heart.