Lately I've been going through a phase I got ninty-nine problems I'm not willing to face Not because I don't want to I just don't have the strength it takes Everything I touch breaks - Well except for this pen and paper And the words on this page - With every word I write down The weight becomes lighter The problems becomes lessor And for a brief moment Life becomes better And I gain my strength again - For a brief moment I don't feel insane And although life is a game I didn't choose I still press continue and carry on playing Facing my ninty-nine problems With just a mere pen and paper And these sonnets I'm creating - Lowkie®
I'm angry at myself, for feeling angry. Against my better judgment, I looked at her page. It's your two year anniversary. Congratulations. Congratulations for ******* me while you were dating her. She wrote that you told her, "I fell in love with you from the moment I met you." So you are in love with her, but you had the nerve to make love to me.
I no longer want you, I no longer crave you. I loathe you.
For four years, I loathe that you slept with other girls, and I continued to crawl back to you.
Maybe thats what makes me angry, you are doing the exact same thing you did to me, to her. And I played a part in it.
The only difference is, she doesn't know. That you're unfaithful. That you lie.
But I did, and I stayed. For four years, because your words dripped honey, even though your actions dragged like knives across my skin.