This is what I get.

For holding onto an empty space, with my fingers outstretched to hold something I thought was there.

but it wasn't.


The hot asphalt searing, killing all of my nerves and screaming of how foolish I was.


Oh, that's what I get.


Loving so hard I forgot how it felt to hate myself.

Neurotic ******
Malevolent malice

Why it's come as a surprise?
To think that I was so naive,
Maybe it didn't mean that much,
But it meant everything to me.