Nothing

Very depressing, most of my poetry is though

The faucet drips in a seemingly empty house
Feelings hurt I sit
Waiting for the end
He believes her over me
And kicks me from his world
Many nights I spend crying
Wishing on stars but there are no miracles
He turned his back on me for the second time
I foolishly forgave him the first
I eat no food and drink no drink
I'm lapsing in and out on consciousness
Lights fading
Going dim
And he still hasn't said sorry
But I guessed he wouldn't
That this is how it would end
Still an apology would be nice
Though he has nothing to be sorry for
He believed who he thought was telling the truth
Even though she wasn't.....
Why would he believe me?