Does It Really Taste That Sweet?

She would not pick up the phone no matter how many times I let it ring or back to back I tried to call; I could not stop the tears from coming down my cheeks; in the shower is where I let them fall. I was once asked by her, if I liked how the hurt and pain dished back felt, my reply was honestly not at all. She told my man, he had his fun when he walked these streets, so now it’s my turn to show my ass and have a ball.

My mail came back with the finger on it, return to the lame from whom it was sent. I did quite a few hurtful things in my past but none of them had a premeditated intent. Never did I think I had completely shattered our love, I figured we could buff out the little dent. So many times you broke up with me and said it was over, how was I supposed to know that this time it was really meant?

It has become so easy for every conversation to be a verbal assault, I speak and at me you prefer to yell. Since when is there a limit of how many times one who loves a person gives help to their loved one who has fell?