woe

oh woe is me at last, and now i finally say to you
but with less heartache and far more callousness than is due
for what could put me past my reason and logic, to which i cling?
it's simple, so i'll make it breif, buts it's more than just one thing.
i'll start with the way i say goodnight, like i'm talking to myself.
did you not notice i was ill, underneath my seemingly perfect health?
and also, there's the notes you wrote, built by broken promises.
al though there were times when i could trust you effortlessly, when was the metamorphysis?
and lastly, i know i'm not perfect, but could you cut me some slack?
most of all i hated the fact that i couldn't love you back.