The road I used to walk was steady. It was a consistant flow of smooth and straight. You came along and started to make it sparkle, to make it shine. You left and covered it with shattering glass. Now the blood oozing out of my cut feet are the tears in my eyes, the holes in my heart, and the darkness in my head.
When I met you, you were desperate for friends. I knew you hated the fact of being alone more than the fact that you had no one to trust. I was an outcast to the school, and had always longed for someone to call my friend. I gave everything I had to you; I forgived you when you did wrong. You, on the other hand, had just wished to be with the ones in center of the crowd, but only settled for me.
I did everything you told me to, but why is it that you're not content? I introduced you to many people, helped you with your goal to become popular. I was naive. Little did I realised you were just using me. I was to caught up with being together with you, after all, we're best friends, right?
Not ever did I even start to suspect anything when you hosted parties that you never invited me to. It was only when you said it to me, infront of all the people you claimed were your new best friends. You only said one word. I never thought just one little word would hurt so much. Just that one word I thought I had stopped being once I had met you. 'Loner'.
The road I walk is dirty, dark and dull. The glass splattered over my feet hurt. The tears from my eyes are like acid against my cheeks. I guess I'm just too reckless with choosing my friends.
