It is sad to say,
You are just like hot sand at the beach.
At the beach,
The sand is so hot that you cannot feel the burn for a moment,
And that’s how it started with you.
I was so infatuated with you,
That I had failed to see how wrong you would treat me,
And I would be treated just like the things you love to do on Friday nights,
Or every night for that matter.

And just like the hot sand,
After that moment of not feeling that intense burning,
I began to felt it,
And oh did it burn.  
My heart broke into small pieces,
Some which never returned,
And I’m sure you took those pieces with you.
Yet somehow,
I was still in love with you,
And just called the pain,
The thing we call “teenage love.”

Once again,
Just like the hot sand,
I got used to burning of the sand,
And I got used to you tearing me to pieces before you left,
That all my senses are numb,
And I have lost all direction.
I’m still unsure if not feeling any pain,
Is a bad thing after all?
Or am I loosing myself ever so slowly,
That I am not noticing it at all?