WARNING: This poem kinda sucks
Only My Problem
It's not necessary for you to butt into my freaking problems,
Or for you to act like a close friend when you and I both know that we're strangers to each other.
Maybe a long time again, we may have been something close as friends,
But you know that you betrayed me, and all that's left of us is damaged now.
Sometimes I think about why and how you could so such things to me,
When you knew that I have some things inside my mind,
That I can't understand and see myself.
What does it take to make you comprehend;
I don't know myself, I don't know who I am,
So why can't you just understand:
The way I feel admittedly so, and the way I feel as that I don't even know,
Of the solitude and weakness of my own indiscretions that have leave me depressed and confused,
Yet you still tempted me even though you knew I was a lit fuse.
Burning brightly, scorching as a fire, and now I know why I could never be admired.
Because although you're selfish and foolish,
I know that this has been my own fault, and I can be the only one taken for the blame.
And still, everything in my mundane life will stay the same.