Apathy

As much as you are willing,
I am not.

And as much as you adore,
I discern.

My words were my own poison,
in which you've found a cure within.

It wasn't my fault that without me,
you can't read them anymore.

For truth sounds like a weak voice from miles away,
yet it's loud enough to break your heart and soul.

It's cute,
but I don't need it.

It's cool,
but I don't desire it.

Very well now, if love ever try to find me,
let it not be me that is found.

For on its back I've left my very own weapon
that has stabbed me more than enough times.