I can still taste the ***** on my mouth,
your hands around my waist, tracing my ribs.
I can still hear those sweet, sweet lies you told
me at three in morning.
"I love you"
"I love you"
"I love you"
I can still remember the way you pretended
that my skin was flawless, that my eyes were
the prettiest ones you'd ever seen.
I can remember the way you fell asleep next to me,
every breath heating the side of my neck.
I can remember you hugging me goodbye,
promising to call later.
Out of all the things I can remember,
why must you be the one to forget?
I gave you my love, I gave you my heart.
You had my feelings gripped inside of your
beautiful hands.
Instead of creating a magnificent story,
you ended the book after reading the back cover.
You threw me aside, not even bothering to tell me why.  
I can still feel the brokenness inside of me.
I can feel.
I can feel.
I can feel.