Oh

"Oh."

Means my heart just burst upon the floor
oozing from a million tiny punctures
more blood than I thought I could hold
more wounds than I thought you would inflict.

But I won't tell you, I'll never tell you
because I care about you too much
far too dearly to worry you with my pain.

How much it hurt--no hurts and won't stop hurting.
How lost and hopeless I feel, and will always feel.
How much I hate you with every salty drop,
yet cannot stop caring for you with every irregular breath.

These are the things my lips can never speak of.

I'd rather I suffer pent up in seclusion
then allow you to pity me, to hate yourself
to hold regret deep within your heart.

My own disillusioned fantasies and hopeful dreams
are what truly hurt me so deeply.

Blaming you is completely nonsensical and irrational
like a child blaming it's mother for his own sneezes.

I cannot hate you, I never could,
all I can do is pretend, not only for your sake, but mine
for to hate you is to hate love in all it's virtues and vices.

And, that is one deed I cannot preform.

"Oh."