Sometimes I try and imagine
what it must be like
to never be able to see past yourself,
to live life so engrossed
in your own problems
that you never see anyone else's pain.
I look at you through tear-filled eyes
and I am invisible to you.
You sit there in your self obsession,
talking about your problems
as I stand before you
slowly dying inside.
When I am gone,
will rage consume you
when you realize you are all alone,
or deep down will you wonder
what on earth made me leave?
Will you, for once,
see past your own pain
and see into the heart
of the woman you profess to love?
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Comments: 18
you describe my feelings very well and you don't even know me.
Myke