Not a Love Story

I think about you all the time.
I wonder if you ever think of me.
This is not a love story.
You say you find
Pleasure in pain,
So do I.
You think you're
Headed nowhere,  
So am I.
You have to fight to
Know the love is real,
So do I.
You tell me
You're dead inside,
So am I.
You told me you don't find
Too much pleasure In a kiss,
Neither do I.
When I met you,
You wore a black dress--
Bags under your eyes and
Bruises on your arms.
I knew what I was getting into.
I wanted all you had to offer,
The pain, the mystery, the beauty--
Everything.
You tossed me aside like
I was nothing.
Yet for some reason,
Here I stand--
Waiting for you.
Why that is
I'll never know.