I loved the sound of a girl's broken heart, I loved seeing girls feel pain. It felt like I was getting revenge for what she put me through.
I admit it I hurt them, not on the outside, but I hurt them in the place where scars stay eternal, the pain I caused would just fade, the pain I caused would eat you from within. Trust me I know.
Having broken heart is almost addicting, time won't heal your wound, it'll only make them sweeter, you get to the point where the alcohol isn't an addiction anymore, where smoking just doesn't suffice, to let go of steam, you steamroll through a girl's heart. That's how you know depression has cut it's way through you.
I didn't mean to take drinking as an addiction, but I did, clinging on to a small hope that each glass I drank would be a step closer to losing the thought of her.
But while I thought my steps where towards salvation from this feeling of sadness, I found myself sinking along with all the sorrows I'd drowned.
I didn't mean to kill those innocent souls that believed in love, but I just wanted to relax mine.
Yet now I sit looking on to the beyond, thinking about what could have been, thinking about your love.
