The Beginning of the End:
Another night alone in my bed. The thought of the way I had you beside me puts a shiver in my head.
Some days I am fine, some days I am weak. But not a day goes by when I do not submit to the way you made me feel.
Distances have abridged miles between us, emptiness seems to be the only sound that echoes between our two figures. The silence between us still seems so loud to me.
How come when I think of you, no matter how cruel you treated me, it never mends my broken heart?
The End of the Beginning:
I am so lonely. It feels so long ago that I felt good. I have succumb to the grace of love, the crazy craze of love, the truth of love. Only a fool is the one who really believes in love. If I could just make love to you one more time. This time I am sure we could make it right. You don't want me anymore. I know you are no good for me, you don't have what I need.
Then and Now:
Flashing lights of energies that have passed me by. Still motions captured in time, recollections flood the traps of my concave mind. Like a statue made of wax, to me you still seem real. Melted, disintegrated, aged and discoloured with time; is it normal that I still can't get you off my mind? I wish I could hate, beseech you, erase you. All I can continue to do is forgive you.
I am not sure if I am strong enough. Some days I feel as though I can never be the same again. I know I must try, or with the pain of abandonment and resentment I will die. For me, you must cry. With a steady drip, you must cool to dry.
Day Out, Day In:
The sound of a woman's voice comes through my headphones as I lay in bed. She talks about her struggle to grow beyond the pain. With the tragedy of growing pains she questions if she can survive. Misery is not sweet, it is defeat. I turn the music down and her voice grows louder. I turn the volume up and the pain seeps in quietly.
Concluding the Beginning of the End:
Look at what I have become. Not a day goes by when I do not think of you. Not a night goes by when I do not feel for you. I wish I could chase these blues away, but as every sad love song comes on, the smear of you across my heart seals my forever casted pain.
1 comment:
hey remember when you slapped me and told me to get a grip...
thanks for that...
I needed it.
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