I place an "x" through another picture,
A line through another name on my list.
There goes the unlucky number thirteen.
I traded months of my breathing away
For his tender kisses I never deserved.
I'm easily the scapegoat of all mankind,
Using and abusing for my own profit.
I erase you as the very last possibility,
Seeing the empty room I now stand in.
Maybe as friends we'd be better off.
Poetry » Love Rated: K+, English, Drama & Poetry, Words: 79, Published: 4/1/2007