Why Me?

Why Me?

Dear You, 

I thought you cared, 

But maybe that 

Was my own fault. 

To begin with.

You picked me 

Red carnations that reminded

Me of the 

Blood racing through my 

Veins.

Little did I know,

The carnations you 

Once picked for me

Would somehow grow 

Thornes and cut me 

Wide open.

Wounds I can't ever

Heal because I 

Keep pouring the salt 

On them.

There's just one thing

I need to

Know the answer to.

Why me? 

Was I too 

Innocent?

Was I not 

Happy enough for you?

Did I

Laugh too loudly? 

Did I 

Shake too much?

I could go on. 

So as I pour

The salt across

The gaping ugly wounds

That you left, 

I can't help but

To wonder: 

Why did you ever pick me? 

Sincerely, 

The One Who Would Never Be Yours