Pain Is...

Pain is feeling a void of numb that was once a meadow of life.
Pain is loving the fresh cuts of one's sharply serrated knife.
Pain is searching for answers to questions but to no avail.
Pain is being left behind, all she did was bail.
Pain is having your heart torn in two after giving it to her.
Pain is feeling the clutches of love again but this time...feeling unsure.

Her.

All because of her.

Her stupid fucking face.

To me she's not a disgrace.

At one point she gave life.

But now...I only reach for the knife.

Tightly and firmly.

I ask myself why I care.

Why.

After what she did why do I care?

Every time she pops in my mind I firmly state "No."

Why do I care?

I'll never know.

Pain is not knowing.
Whether to care
Or stop showing anguish.
Do I dare?