Strangers With Memories

I wipe my own tears and no one knows Though I still wipe the tears of those who have hurt me I don't enjoy helping others because no one is there to tell me that "It'll be okay," when I need help. I ended up all alone, even with a kind heart I see those who were my friends have a better life than me. It bothers me to know I ended up suffering unlike the cold hearts who left me I know they were toxic in the end but they weren't like that at first no one will know the perfect memories I had with them But like everyone says; We're strangers with memories.