Because my words were nothing more than lifeless letters written in bubbles you did not bother to understand.
Because tears turned to heartache pains and the blank notes were nothing more to you than ink, but the weeks I spent shedding tears onto white keys were the dark days waiting for a light that never came.
Because the paintbrush on my canvas painted a forever in red letters delaying the fact that this forever was never yours but only a figment of my imagination. Don't tell me that you cared you could care more for a broken heart trying to fix yours.
Because it wasn't enough to make you a living but the green in your eyes was a snake behind an ache betraying the ones who loved you the most.
Because leaving scars were nothing more to you than crimson lines that walked on endlessly.
