This is really going to sting

I must confess that I am hurt,
My chest holds back but it feels burnt.
Across all the feelings that seems a little cut,
Cut short by the unacceptance of my mental grounding.
This feeling then; seemed founding,
When lied to for their own selfish reason.

I must confess that I’m not used to this emotions,
The battle that I’ll never feel the same,
But for me; I am to be blamed.
The pounding headache that I never desired,
Like the feeling of hoping not to go mad.

I must confess that I simply just lack love,
Therefore, I am unaware that it supposedly exists. 
There was a time where I did try to persist that this feeling did exist,
But out of the delusions, I knew the thoughts were dismissed.
I fought for something that ended up being short lived. 

I must confess that this might be a cry for help,
Though I am confused on whether I feel ashamed or sad.
I am shamed for even expressing my damned self,
Lacking the rhythm of my brain that got deprogrammed. 
Does it hurt or I’m I just miserable?

I must confess that this might hurt to say,
Has it come to this where I did stab your heart a little? 
Or did you feel pleasure seeing me beg for some attention?
While you moved on, I stayed with the same dumbass emotions.
Waiting that one day I’ll receive a text just from you.
But you never did…

I must confess that It’s lonely in my room,
You are moving on and I’m stuck.
In the darkness, you were not there.
So as I mourn you even though you are well,
I hope you end your life unwell.

This is really going to sting,
The tears that came flooding in for a few days.
Your awful life had turned over,
You were happy and for me… I was just lurking in the shadows.