Her

Every day, she walks past me and my mind wanders back to when she and I were something special. Now I can see in her eyes, she hates me, she doesnt' care about me, and this tiwsts a knife already stabbed into my throbbing heart. After all we've been through, you'd think I could at least get a sad glance, or - dare I go so far as to say - a smile, no, not from her... Its my own fault and I should have been over her long ago, but I still have to see that look every day.