Maybe
Maybe a word full of doubts, maybe this, maybe that.
The maybes never end; the questions never end with you.
You’re the cause for my maybes, you’re the cause for my hurting.
You made me believe, and I hate you for that.
Maybe it wasn’t your fault; maybe I was just dumb.
See, it’s always the maybes.
I hate the way your notes are sad,
But at school, you seem happy.
Your notes make me think you’ll come back,
But your appearance makes me believe you’re gone forever.
Maybe you just want me to suffer; maybe it’s simply the way you are.
You made me believe I was wrong;
I doubted myself once again because of you.
That was a mistake.
Even though I hate you,
Why is it I only feel perfect with you yet so imperfect?
You make me feel loved, which is good,
But you also make me feel doubtful.
It’s always her.
There always has to be that person who ruins everything,
Not only while we’re together but also outside.
Her comments stick in my head;
They tell me to just rip you out of my heart.
Yet it feels like a bandage;
It hurts to take it out when it’s been there too long,
So much that it feels like it’s engraved in your skin—that’s you in my heart.
Maybe you always loved her; that’s why you were so quick to leave.
Maybe that’s why you tried to make me hate you.
You knew what I loved about the person I met at first,
And you ripped that away from me.
Every night I think and think; the thinking never ends.
Sometimes I pray, “God, take my life away;
I don’t want to deal with this pain anymore.”
Yet I don’t want to die;
I just wish I never met you.
Maybe this served as experience,
Yet it just feels like nobody will ever feel as good as you.
Maybe the relationship was always based on her,
But the good moments feel like they could never be replaced by anyone else.
How can I stop this pain?
How can I stop the maybes from hurting?
The maybes about it all being fake,
The maybes that you never felt the same,
The maybes that I was the only one who made a life out of a miserable human
That maybe, just maybe, only once said the truth.
And that truth is the one he’s probably texting her, which is “I love you.”
How do you get it out of your brain?
The same exact thing he did with you, he’s doing with her,
Yet he’s actually enjoying them.
Perhaps this was destined to happen,
Or maybe it’s my brain just telling me to please move on.
