Love hurts.

by Ashe
(Edmonton alberta )

I would slit my wrists for you, but that won’t do any good, I know because I’ve tried. You said you’d be there for me, through it all. But you just sat there and watched me cry. Now I don’t know what love is anymore. They say love is precious, but I don’t believe it. Because how can something so precious hurt so much?

These scars on my wrists are proof that you exist.

Looking at you loving her is like taking me to the top of the highest mountain, showing me the world and saying, “This is what you can’t have.”

You saved me from myself, but left me open for others.