I’m bleeding out.
This tourniquet’s not tight enough.
It doesn’t fit.
Getting paler by the minute.
Maybe I should sit.
And there you go again.
You walk on by,
Like I don’t exist.
You don’t see me lying here, bleeding out.
Hell if you did, I doubt you’d even care.
But I see you.
With that devil-may-care, cocky-face grin…
That endearing dimple in your chin.
Acting so innocent.
When we both know, you’re guilty as sin.
Why did you always have to have the last word?
Why did you always have to win?
Why wouldn’t you let me in?
Is it supposed to be this bad?
Is it supposed to hurt this much?
I thought falling in love was supposed to be beautiful.
That it should be fun.
Not a here one minute feeling,
And in the next, gone.
But alas, we’ve come to this.
It’s time the world knew the truth.
It’s time I had my say.
I can’t continue to shoulder all the blame.
Some of it it’s yours…
Mr John Stewart, middle initial A.