This isn\'t a Poem, But its a LEtter

Dear Robert,

I write this letter for myself and not for you. You permanently damaged me because you pulled on my emotions till I had none. You drained the life out of me into your own pathetic soul. I would hate to pass you on the street because at first there would be an extreme rush of pain serge my body, then the resentment will run through my veins. I would look into your eyes with hatred and then walk away with tears run down my face. I will forever wound why I ever loved you, I will forever ponder on what went wrong. I solved my own answer; the question is not what went wrong its what didnt go wrong. Everything was completely shattered in our friendship, from the day we said hi. I wish that now when I think back to day when we were children, so innocent in our ten years of life. I wish on that very day that haunts me so clearly, I wish I would have never met you. The reason why I hate you so much is because I love you so much. I promised you I would have done everything for you, and I did. You still weren�t satisfied. You will not be satisfied with anyone, especially me, unless its yourself. You love to grieve and gluttonize yourself. You will be alone in this world, and although I may be the one alone right now I know that in the end of eternity I am the one who is stronger. I am the one wallowing in my own sorrow, but I know that when this pool of tears is gone you will see me. You have told me secretly, silently that I am nothing. So now for the rest of my life I will look into the mirror and see nothing. I am invisible unless you take my hand and swift me. When ever you take my hand, you take it with one. With your other, you hold a dagger and you so meaningly love to pierce through my heart. You love to repeatedly stab me, and as the blood pours out of my pale body you love to see the red candish liquid spill to the floor until there wasnt any left to drain. The sparkle of my eyes shade, the life leaves my cheeks, my pupils dilate, motions become motionless, and fingers become cold. The loss of your touch is deadly, but now I\'m used to it all. I used to dying this way every day. Every night I fall into slumber and never want to wake up. But when I do I wake up in your shallow arms, as your body lies next to mine. I want to pull the pillows up to his face and feel your breaths decrease, and your chest slow. But I can�t because you aren�t there, a part of my brain wants you but my heart does not. I want you out of my life forever, so I wont have to go through this pain ever again. I want you gone, I want you dead. I want you to walk away, and die every day of your life just like I will do.