isn't it lovely
it hurts.
the type of pain that devours you
seeing him with another
jealousy,
your worst enemy
love and hate
a love once so pure and passionate
you couldn't be without
slowly turning into hate
the type of hate that makes you lose control,
wrecking everything insight
it tears you into pieces
isn't it lovely, getting hurt
if teardrops could be bottled
you'll be swimming in a pool
you promised you loved her
you lied you aren't honest
why, did you love her
isn't it lovely, getting hurt
all he wanted was to kiss her
but he never wanted her
her rosy red lips desperate by the touch
she knew she was used
tempted she was hurt, again
but she wasn't bothered anymore
sadly, she was already used to the image of betray
she wondered why she let him in
isn't it lovely, getting hurt
12 a.m she woke up all alone
the darkness was her only home
beside her nothing but her bed
she craved him but he was nowhere in sight
loneliness was her only friend
he was never with her
isn't lovely, getting hurt
he stepped into the house once called home
she knew he was not with her, but with another
jealousy stroked
hatred provoked
she had enough.
isn't it lovely, it hurted
walking for a better place
she would hate to see him go, but she has to let him go
she was hurt
he hurted her
isn't it lovely, she let go
her heart relieve she watched as he stared blankly into her soul she doesn't want to be with him anymore
she doesn't want to be with someone who can not give her what she wants
love,
so simple, yet always misused
she wants to be with someone who admires her
someone who craves her touch
Her.
And.
Only.
Her.