i tried to be..

the summer in your starving, ice cold veins. you let me go.

i tried to be your everything;

the summer in your veins

and swallowed every knife you plunged

deep within me, over again

i let your eyes be empty;

your silent way to cry

and listened to you blame me

each and every night

i kissed the corner of your mouth;

showing you what could be

and held your hand in mine until

you let go, of what used to be

Author's Note

i need to stop writing about HIM. but i was thinking on the past today..like i *always do..and wrote this up. something i should have back in february, and back in june, and every month up until now.

when does the hurting stop?