I used to be first to speak, last to leave, always try to understand, show nothing but love. That was before this caring trait got me the worst heart break
I loved you before so I can do it again, but before that's possible, my broken heart you must mend. It's not all hard just tell me the truth, did you really care about what I felt, or was it plain pretend?
Regrets are for insects with nothing in their chest. The gut is where all their feelings rest. So the human I am just won't give a damn, if I do or say something that makes another sad