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I buried a poem under each of the places we used to go In hope that you'd find one and read it so you know How I feel (How I feel) I had a dream and this is what it was You walked away with Mark and my phone started to buzz Yeah, better luck next time Oh, I never hated you I don’t even hate them I just hate myself Oh, I never hated you I don't even hate them I just hate myself How unfair that he gets to run his dirty fingers through your hair And when we fought he was always standing there In the back of my brain, of my brain A smile so cruel and the smell of his cologne Could put me in a trance where his blood was on my hands But that's what mad people do
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