Written in blood

"Where can all the hearts go
when love leaves them high and dry?
I have attempted to cut free the pain
and all that I have received
is more yet again.
In this I differ to my lost love,
she moved on
with another to hold her,
I stayed here alone
too afraid to follow
her example
in case the truth was harder to swallow
and the bitternes of the pill
that you only taste
at the final rattle
of a once full bottle,
showed my strength of character
as the only thing left wanting...
me."

The love may have been true
but so too was the end,
so either stand up for yourself
or let reality bend,
with distortive cocktails
of regret and pithy self hate
and the bemoaning to all
that you have decided your fate,
and the drops that you spill
from a fresh opened wound,
makes all that angst you 'must' cling to
somehow a more effective appeal
then the search for closure
and the return of your belief;
Why not find a better path to victory
than just admit self defeat?