Wasted love and a box of pictures.

He said “no, leave me something of yours so I always have a reason to come back to you no matter what happens.”

I’m sorry for loving this worthless piece of trash.
Im sorry for giving him thought, and I’m sorry for looking at old pictures.
I’m sorry that I pretend when he kisses me that it’s actually this worthless piece of trash.
Im sorry that he can treat me as if Im nothing and yet I’ll still want him.
I’m sorry I write about him,
and I’m even more sorry that I still cry about him.

We were lovers in every way

she stood there eyes blazing with victory and that’s when he said it:

I never meant for you to still want me

She won him, and there I was defeated, with no one by my side.

He pitied me, and actually felt the reality. He didn’t mean for this to end like this. 

He was just trying to win a game his twisted mind concocted. But it was never suppose to last this long.

I never meant for you to still want me

I woke up repeating these words, as if it were a message from him directly; as if it wasn’t a dream.

I never meant for you to still want me

Those words pulsated through me, and stabbed me right in the heart.