I still listen to the playlist you sent me

I hate that I love it
I hate I've still got it
I hate I'm not wanted
by You.


Boys don't cry
So I die to these songs—
Numbers don't lie
So I'll write to my wrongs

And every time I start to feel
the "Woe is me's" strong,
I'll reflect instead

Upon all the times
I was the one devoid of respect

I know better
but I'm no better,
I don't deserve to be bitter

I deserve to be sorry.