My heart is bruised...so here I am writing a poem... how cliche of me. Crying over a man who told me I was worth the fight but still let me go...how cliche of me. Mind running laps searching for all the faults I made, all the things I could've done better knowng I gave 150% to him knowing that if my efforts were honestly valued you would still be laying next to me instead of me laying by myself..how cliche of me. I thought that if I allowed him into me that he would see or that he would feel just how much I loved him and that I was forever by his side but for him... it was just itch to be scratched.. a urge to be dealt with...how cliche of Us