One of many, a fragment of a thought, almost finished, half finished, barely begun.
I broke mine, but am I another turn of the dial on yours. Are you anyone else, or am I blinded by the glint of possibility.
What do your words even mean, truth or lies, I can’t tell, can’t see through your disguise.
Remove the mask, take ownership for what was done, no more lies, let a new era meet the sun.
I want to breathe fresh air and not wonder if it’s really fresh, I want to trust myself so I can trust you.
Still so many questions, running my mind into a wheel of never-ending non-existent replies, just want silence when I close my eyes.
I want to feel it, not like a gentle wind, but a gust that relinquished my power. Not to drain me, but to support the energy I’m already giving, add to me. I want to hear it, like the warm cold front fighting for space and the train that destroys wherever it sets. Rip up everything we were, turn the ground so newness can be planted.
Do you still say the things you used to say, that I helped you every time you needed it, or am I only known as the devil who broke your heart. When you think past the last few months is it shrouded in you current disdain, the love that was shared is it tainted, can you even touch it again. Do you tell them I tricked you, that you never had a choice, are they the fools who believe you, or do they see your pain and allow you the lies. I wonder all the time, the web that you spin, always the victim, never the victor who wins. It’s always someone’s fault, someone who isn’t you, I wonder if it’s to the point that you’re lying to you too.
I forget a little more each day, the feel of your hands on my face, not the feeling it gave me, but the lines of your fingerprints, creating friction across my lips and face.
I look at photos of you, from before, and it feels like another piece of my ventricle is closed off. I wait for the dull ache, but the feeling burns. Memories tainted every time I go back to use them to hold on, but all I hear is “was this the real you”. Who is the real person, how real are you with me? Things I never questioned before you betrayed me. Slow and long I’m suffering, because now we don’t speak, when before hours couldn’t pass without you wanting to hear from me, days never passed that you didn’t call to hear my voice, I don’t remember what you sound like, smell like, taste like. You’re foreign to me, like an amnesia, waking from a long sleep, thinking you’d be there, yet I’m always alone, I gave up thinking I’d hear, “I’m home”, the moment is gone.
Who do you love more.
The idea of being loved, or actually loving yourself
Because when you’re treated not as you should, when your expectations aren’t met, what are you willing to sacrifice to feel what those precious moments give you.
Do the actions match the words you hear?
How many chances do you give before you realize every chance is taken for granted. Because once you say it the first time, it’s not a mistake, they are making a choice.
How long do you try. At what point is your happiness, the love you deserve, and your peace matter more than having someone?
Everybody has choices.
Our responses are our responsibility.
Every time the name arises, I steal artery to ventricle away.
Try to keep it all separated.
Turning into mystery and misery.
Compulsion to try something new
But you’re stuck on what was
Which is she, who am I
Unmatched patterns, pulling to find silver lining
Doubt planted, seeds growing, roots settling.
Too tired to fight it. Why pull the weeds
It will be what it will be