I am so happy, my skies are blue.

Every night I sleep in peace.

Knowing you are there for me.

Until one dark day, that was my doom.
You say to me “we’ve had some fun times. But I met someone new. I went behind your back, and simply cut a hole.”

Now, I ray restless, my path is dense by your hole.
The pain is big, I’m going blind.
I can’t see ahead, I’m going to die.

We were so happy; at least, that’s what it seemed.

But, I was not good enough, times must have changed.
I’ve never felt like this,
Is this the end?
You’ve always been, right there, at my side.
But you threw it all away, why can’t I let go?

Days pass, my lids turn black.
I can’t strain to sleep.
I’m eating at myself.
This is my fault.
It was my mistake.
I can’t go back, this is my coffin.
A coffin smothered in sheer regret.

I can’t escape.

No matter how hard I try, you will always be my life, the salt to my pepper, the flavor in my soda, my will to keep living, the blood pulsing in my heart.

But whose to blame, it was to perfect, my perfect past.

If you are so perfect, then it must be me.
My incompetence, compared to the flowers that grow beneath your feet.

It must have been me, I have failed myself.
And when my heart still skips a beat when I spot you.
I blame myself.

I notice the new person at your side and try to look at an optimistic point of view.
I find none, and only cause more pain as I think about my unforgivable loss.

Bit if this isn’t my fault, then whose fault is it?
I have blamed god and the devil for many of my mistakes.
But no god, whether it be Eden or the Prince Of Darkness, could cause the pain that dwells within me.

The pain comes in waves.
Each time I think about it, a wave surpasses.
It’s like a game, the pain playing with me, having its fun.
The game slowly continues as I pray for an ending, with hopes of a
Game-Over.

But the end of the pain will not come until I face it.

The pain is unstoppable because of the repeated mistakes I made.

Surely I will eventually stop blaming myself.
But imagining our past is the only thin that keeps me going, the only thing that can makes me able to put on a happy face every passing day.

Even if I tried to stop thinking about you, everything I look at reminds me of you in some special way.
The hours and hours I spend thinking about you everyday, I always wonder what you feel about me.
But I always remember not to get my hopes up.

Days fade to weeks and weeks nag to months.
My wounds have slowly healed, but the scars on my heart will remain forever.
I am still filled to the top with regret.
I still blame myself for everything that went wrong.

Regret is easily the worst thing that I have ever felt.
It washes over you, and through your veins, purposely striking every nerve within you.
It’s barely enough for me to stand.
But it teaches me a lesson.
It makes me think of my future.
I must do the best with my life now, so my future isn’t filled with even more regret.

So, that my future isn’t filled with regret that I spent days in a corner as stiff as a vegetable.

This will give me a will, and a fighting chance to make it through the rest of my life.