Because regardless if you ever loved me we both know you still feel my mouth on the very edges of your skin, and is it not news that she can ******* name on the pieces of your exposed flesh you haphazardly place so heavily beneath her. I am burned so inescapably apparent like silver scars that beg for invisibility. I have kissed you deep with these malicious lips, and left your blood tinged with toxic venoms that you are so desperate to water-down, to erase, to pretend as if they never seared the guarded walls of your insecurity; but don't let me brandish my own wounds as though they somehow belong to you. And I might not have ever meant I loved you, but I can still feel the exact moment it could have possibly been conceived and the way the currents kept back the aching light of truth that lay so calmly over you and I, you and I, you and I were never meant to be; we just happened.