Why did you leave?

Why did I heave?

Why did I let you walk all over me and leave painful footprints?

Why did I tell you my darkest secrets only to have you run away with them?

Why am I picking up the pieces of my shattered heart with no one to hold the dustpan?

Why is there no one to hold my hand?

Why am I treading through life with only my shadow as company?

Why do I feel like this will be the autobiography of my life?

Why did I fall into your trap again?

Why did I let your deceiving, manipulative ideas in my head?

Why don’t you know what you did to me?

Why do I have to stay here, slowly deteriorating, while I hear of your triumphs?

Why am I hurting myself?

Why is my body bursting at every cell?

Yet you didn’t think twice about me.

The dirt will soon cover my body, along with layers of crisp autumn leaves, snow, and mud.  Is this what you wanted for me?

It’s becoming my new harsh reality.