When I Was Your Man
i know it's probably much too late
There's not really much I can say. I screwed up, that much I can admit. Why would anyone stay with me when I treat them so horribly?
His name really hurts. Those five letters, they send me over the edge. It gets to the point where I can't breath properly when someone brings him up.
I should've moved on already. He did, I know he did. I don't know why I was watching TV. Hell, I don't know how I even had TV. I haven't paid my bills in so long. In all honesty, I haven't done anything in so long.
Back to the point, they were all over the media. Cutest, hottest, biggest couple. That's what we used to be. I don't know how that happened.
Even if I didn't find out from the TV, someone would've came along and told me. I can't do anything without someone scattering the pieces of my heart.
The bed I'm laying on is pretty soft, and the pillow is as comfortable as it can get. But it doesn't compare to the way it felt to hear his heartbeat while my head rested on his chest.
The radio is playing softly in the background. I can hear the faint tune of our song, but it just doesn't sound the same. The heater's on, but I can feel the snow outside seeping through my skin and freezing my bones. It might just be the loneliness.
I can still feel his blue eyes piercing into mine. It was like he could see what I was feeling and use that to manipulate me. I didn't really care, I thought I had him wrapped around my finger.
I'm holding the bottle close to my chest. There's sleeping pills on the bedside dresser, but I'm not ready to do that yet.
I feel like I should call someone. Tell someone it's done. Maybe they can feed our--I mean, my--cat. Maybe they can make plans for a funeral or do something. Maybe they can tell Louis what I've done.
But something's stopping me. Instead, I just tilt the bottle up to my lips and pray Louis' doing okay without me. And who knows, maybe he's doing all the things I didn't do when I was his man.
His name really hurts. Those five letters, they send me over the edge. It gets to the point where I can't breath properly when someone brings him up.
I should've moved on already. He did, I know he did. I don't know why I was watching TV. Hell, I don't know how I even had TV. I haven't paid my bills in so long. In all honesty, I haven't done anything in so long.
Back to the point, they were all over the media. Cutest, hottest, biggest couple. That's what we used to be. I don't know how that happened.
Even if I didn't find out from the TV, someone would've came along and told me. I can't do anything without someone scattering the pieces of my heart.
The bed I'm laying on is pretty soft, and the pillow is as comfortable as it can get. But it doesn't compare to the way it felt to hear his heartbeat while my head rested on his chest.
The radio is playing softly in the background. I can hear the faint tune of our song, but it just doesn't sound the same. The heater's on, but I can feel the snow outside seeping through my skin and freezing my bones. It might just be the loneliness.
I can still feel his blue eyes piercing into mine. It was like he could see what I was feeling and use that to manipulate me. I didn't really care, I thought I had him wrapped around my finger.
I'm holding the bottle close to my chest. There's sleeping pills on the bedside dresser, but I'm not ready to do that yet.
I feel like I should call someone. Tell someone it's done. Maybe they can feed our--I mean, my--cat. Maybe they can make plans for a funeral or do something. Maybe they can tell Louis what I've done.
But something's stopping me. Instead, I just tilt the bottle up to my lips and pray Louis' doing okay without me. And who knows, maybe he's doing all the things I didn't do when I was his man.
5/26/13