The most painful poem

Was she worth it?

I'd say I'm learning how it feels to have feelings for someone who has no feelings for you. But I know how that feels.

I'd say I don't miss you, but I do. Because missing you makes me who I am now.

I'd say I don't think about it anymore. But I just can't seem to get that night out of my head.

I'd say you didn't break my heart. But your lips on hers, and the lies your lips told. And the secrets your lips hold. They broke it.

I'd say I don't check your twitter. But you tweet it, I read it. I'd say I don't over think it. But I do. I over think you.

I'd say her name. But I don't know it. Kennedy, or Dakota. Something. Something much prettier than mine. Because she is much prettier than me.

I'd say she wasn't but that would be a lie. I'd say I wish I knew what she looked like. But I don't.

I don't need to know how much whiter her teeth are. Or how flawless her skin is. Or how she gave you everything I couldn't.

I don't need to know how with a single kiss you took away my whole world.

I'd say I wished she had sang you the song, but then I'd have to say I wish she knew it, and I don't.

I'd say I know you loved me then. But I don't know that.

I know the lips that once created the stars and the heavens for me, now darken my hell.

I know you'll never love me again.

I'd say I wish you would.

But I'd have to want that.

And I don't know if I do.

I'd say I wish I could meet her, and tech her a lesson.

But really I want to shake her hand with a tear in my eye. Thank her, for being what I couldn't.

I'd say you never cross my mind. But you do. Constantly.