It's funny how heartbreak can make me appreciate you even more.
It's as if you have permanently inked every moment a tear fell,
every time our lips touched and refused to part,
every heartfelt word that came from within
onto my soul.

My first true love,
my first true heartbreak.
I knew I had mature emotions at a young age,
and always wondered if I would ever meet the man most deserving.

To my surprise, you were the chosen one.
And to ours, you were the abuser.
The one who misused them,
trampled over them with ease.

I do not believe you are aware of the damage.
And I do not believe that if I even bothered to pour
my heart once more you'd understand.
You were given several opportunities to walk
a mile or two in my shoes.
But you swore there was no need because
you could already feel me.
You passed that up with no problem of passing me.

I slowly slipped away
without you realizing.
Fading into the background of what was once
our masterpiece.
My absence should never be the reason why
you give me the time of day.
You always had a bad habit
of coming around too late anyway.
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