Confessions

Dear Sir,
I have a confession or two.

If you even care, well I tried to make you appear.
I sought you out, in vain.
Their eyes were all dead.

I tried to find you.
I thought that maybe you were somewhere.
Each time was an act of defiance.
I don't need you.

Isn't that why you refuse to show your face?
I wanted you to be angry.
To show me you were real.

I thought you cared.
That we were meant to be together.
Each time was a realization.
I don't need you.

Are you happy now?
Are you satisfied that you've made me realize how much I hate you?
You've destroyed a heart so fragile.
Why didn't you come when I called?