Forsaken.

My tears fell from these eyes for four long years, and still you've yet to claim me as your prize. I did handstands for you, cartwheels were not enough. You called my bluff, and sent me running for the hills. Still, I am yours for the taking; my heart is breaking as my body is aching for your touch. Like a crutch, I am bound to you like paper to glue; you make me feel brand new. Renewed, I reach for your hand, hoping you will see that I am your man. I waited, counted down the days until you would realize that I was your slave. I would wipe tears from your eyes, and steal the sorrow straight out of your heart if only you had acknowledged my love from the start. I was here for you, near to you, yet you still pushed me aside and refused the truth. As my youth faded, I came to see, that our compatibility was too much to refute. Still, I got the boot; kicked to the curb like the ash from your cigarette; I don't function anymore. I am not a whore, no Jezebel; your secrets I will not tell as long as you come under my spell. I am the one that loved you first, fought your logic with reason, yet you imprisoned me within the walls of my own regret; charged me with treason, refused to circumspect. I am no longer a child, I grew colder and old. You failed to shelter me from the storms of the Arctic cold. I redeemed myself through liberation, born free once again. No longer mundane, I soar above the skies, looking down on loves lost, stripping you of your disguise. You were a wolf dressed like a sheep, cheap to your core, hardly hardcore. You denied me of the trust, the love that I was deserving of. Push came to shove, and I cried for the last time. Like a mime, I silently displayed the defeat I felt from being excluded from your pathetic elite. Our Eden failed, as our train derailed, sending me shivering, shaking into the forests of my own nightmares. Like the most crude millionaire, you sold my soul in exchange for some air. Gasping for breath I beckon my death, hoping that you choke on the life that you forsake. I was your shrew to be tamed, instead I was maimed. I cried out for justice, hoping you would rescue me; you left me alone, in bad company. How am I to remain ensnared by your charms, when you have chosen to disarm those that refused to ring the alarm? I wash my hands clean of you, no longer afraid to run carefree within the sun. I was the one that loved you best, but instead you chose the path of the rest, and pushed your knife deeper into my loving breast.