Untitled

today I write
what might have been,
with blood,
into my head,
I use my tears
to show the love
and my heart
to show the pain.
what I seem to write
so obviously
sketched into my mind
is not noticed by you.
I write this everlastingly
because I though
you felt the same way,
but I guess I felt wrong.
but written in blood,
there is no going
back to erase
those mistakes you
think you make
or the mistakes
I know I made
in giving you my heart
before you
even offered me yours.
you always end up hurting
me, and the truth will
always be written
in blood.

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