Jealousy

He was jealous.
And he just told me.
He says for a few seconds,
he hated me for it.
But he stopped in his tracks.
And he though about it for a second.
He says he can't hate me for it.
That he can't hate me.
That he has never hated me for anything.
He says that day he wanted to hate me.
That I didn't do anything.
That much is true.
I didn't do anything.
It takes two to tango.
It's over used but true.
I hate feeling guilty.
It is one of the worst feelings in the world.
To feel truely guilty.
At least for me.
I hate it when people cry over me.
But then there is that sadistic side of me.
The side I keep hidden.
It rarely shows itself,
but when it does,
I want nothing more than to hurt people.
To see their pain.
And to know that I caused it.
I hate that side of me.
Truely despise it.
That isn't me.
Today has just decided to try and beat me down hasn't it?
Well you didn't win.
I'm still happy.
Just you watch me live my life,
turn to a soundless sleep in a bed bathed in a different light.