Senseless Scarring

I look back
at our memories.
I see the past
and think about
all the twisted ways you used me,
the s**t we went through
just to confuse me.
It's been so long,
you've moved on.
I'm still here,
suffocating on the,
"If only we talked,"
"What if we met?"
"What if he's fine?"
"When will I die?"
Life isn't
my perfect dream,
not that it's anybody's.
I miss you,
but what of it?
You don't really
give a s**t
about me
or what happens to me.
I'm alone,
obviously.
You were the last good thing
I held close to my heart.
After this,
I'm stuck with these scars.