you stab me in the stomach, slit my throat, get me shot, throw me in institutions, get me convicted, throw me out of a window, yet i love you for it.
i’m obsessed, i fiend.
you occupy my every thought, influence my every move and emotion.
you understand me and i understand you, we see each other.
i should forget, i should let you go but no.
i'm too curious
you’ve killed me and i’ve lived.
a problem arises, someone says something, does something, a metaphysical punch to the gut. lurching forward, i can’t help but feel contempt, why did you hurt me, why do you hurt me?
a flurry of apologies greet my tearful gaze, and i shudder underneath them like a follower does a venerable elder. i can’t help but let them rush over me, provoking saltwater to fall from my eyes.
the word sorry assists the rivers that flow and gush.
my screaming is muffled by seemingly empty words, and i choke on the opportunity to explain my pain.
in all reality, these apologies are healing, soothing, but i view them just as a child views a disparaging mother, as a cackle and a taunt.
i have an inability to tell how i feel, in truth. i cower from the responsibility, shrouding myself in a funereal veil. i want to grab at your words, to feel them ringing in my ears repeatedly.
wishing you knew exactly what was bothering me, my problems a simple melody composing itself in your thoughts. i wish the answers would prostrate themselves in the forefront of your mind so i wouldn’t have to.
but alas, we don’t always get what we want, and that fills me with a rage so strong, i do nothing but let it grow ancient in my mind. the antiquity of my anger molds a clear answer to my issue. i need to speak, i need to say, i need to declare.
declaration does not come easy, every move made by the antagonizing party is studied by me and revered. i don’t want to erroneously state my feelings.
i don’t know how to fix this, i want to valiantly explain myself in words that are foreign, pronounce my innermost workings in a way that even i don’t understand. i wish you could see through me, see what i’m concealing. hurt me again. again. plunge a sword through my heart and maybe my words will come posthumously. i cannot fathom how much it will take to drive them out, or the extent you will go to retrieve them. if only i could open my mouth and tell you how you hurt me. i do not wish to reproach you, nor do i wish to take revenge. i want to give that sorry meaning, to create profundity in your apology.
i’m sorry too.
You think back to what you enjoyed.
A year ago, maybe two. It rattles in your brain
Shaking, you take in the emotions of time passed.
Reminisce.
Think to a week ago. The emotions you felt. The people you spent time with, or lack thereof. Relish in these thoughts. It’s nostalgic. Nostalgia. A warmth washes over you
An awesome wave. Poetic, almost. With a hint of sadness. You can’t get this back, it’s in the past.
Move forward, there are more memories to make.