II don't know if this is any good, but I just hope you'll like it.
Disclaimer : Roses are red, violets are blue. I own iCarly... Nevermind, that's not true.
Tell me, why am I here? Why am I on the floor? Why am I crying?
Why am I alone?
Tell me why is the blood dripping down my body?
Tell me why do I stay?
Just tell me why I'm here.
Because it's not like you're going to come back for me. At first I thought you would. I thought this would be temporary. So I waited. And I waited. And I waited -for nothing.
Because now I know that it's not temporary. And you're not coming back. You're gone. And you left me.
And now I'm stuck with this... This cellophane. This empty shell that once contained your heart.
And I can't leave it.
Because it's not you -not really- but it feels like it -sometimes.
Because at times I can still see these flashes passing by -sparks of what once was you.
And I hope -pray- that -someday- they'll bring you back to me. I mean, I know they won't. I know that -if anything- they'll eventually just disappear completely.
But until then... I just can't go away. I just can't live without those sparks of hope -even though they're lies. That's okay. I don't care. Because these moments, they've become like an addiction to me -a drug.
In a way, we are the same. We are both addicts -each of our own drugs.
And I need it -I need you.
And I guess that's why I'm here.
Because it's okay to hurt sometimes -to bleed and cry sometimes.
And it's okay that I've lost everything -my job, my friends, my family.
It's okay to live like this.
Because at least I get to be with you -or as close as that's still possible.
And, in some sick, messed up way, I kind of like the pain. I kind of like how I can't move -can't breathe. I kind of enjoy laying here all night.
Because I know what it's leading up to. I know that, when tomorrow comes, you'll finally come home, and you'll lift me up and carry me to bed. And you'll bring me some water, and you'll help me to drink. And -maybe- you'll even caress my hair, or cheek, and you'll kiss my forehead.
And then -just for a moment- I can pretend. That you're back. And we're happy. And you'll never leave me again.
And then, it's okay. It was all worth it. Because, when I look into your eyes, it's you.
So, I guess that's why I'm here, alone, on the floor. With the blood dripping down my body. I guess that's why I stay.
But I'm not crying anymore.