I’ve done so
well at getting away and then somehow curiosity reels me back in and once again, your words thrust themselves under my skin
like a dagger painstakingly tearing away at my soul. I apologize and all I get in return are more words of ice and daggers…
I just need to feel warmth again. I need to feel the searing pain as the numbness subsides and gasp for every ounce of breath
as taught skin stretches tighter across rib and bone. I need to know I’m living and I need you to show me with as much
composure and caress as you can. Sadly, I think that’s beside you now.
Throwing back at
me every caring word I ever uttered, twisting it and warping it to paint yourself as the goddamn victim and slapping me in
the face with your lies and jealousy. So self-absorbed, trying to hold your head above my floods of tears, attempting to maintain
any ounce of dignity you wish you had left. Lashing out as a child would when angry at its mother, hurtfully expressing every
lie you ever told, making easy the decision that lay ahead then and the path I had to take.
And for so long I
was resilient but now I’m breaking down, folding under pain and pressure. Memories revived and plaguing the mind, chills
of long lost touches and the stirring anger with alls return seeps back into collapsed veins, burning and searing the hallow
corridors in weak arms. Habitual expectations of perfection and elitism that I could not produce… The agony of decisiveness...
The pain of truth… The realization of imperfection.
Shackles now coldly
rattling as I stretch for the heavens, bent and broken, sagging beneath this hill of dirt I once claimed as kingdom, trying
so desperately to piece back together what I used to hold near and dear, whole and true.
Rebuilding, scrounging
for every last piece to the scattered jigsaw on the floor. Trying desperately to remove myself from shadows made all my own
by desolate tears and cries of angry isolation. Dropping eyes to the ragged floorboards below, tearing away at them hoping
to unearth the heart I once buried there. The one you broke and left beating for dead.
I’m making a conscience decision
to trade my pain for love…
I’m giving my sorrow for laughter;
Buying affection with each ounce of agony
And swapping my worry for a clearer mindset.
---
But now, after starting
over, I’m too afraid to ruin another good thing by holding on to every heart string. I’m too afraid of binding
another just as you bound me. Tied up and watched over like I was some sort of prisoner in your barless jail. I’m too
afraid of reforming this misshapen heart, thinking constantly that one wrong move will ruin it forever. Still, I am glad,
though bound still, I am bound by my own accord and not of yours. I am free if I wish to be or restrained if I see it fit.
I can be whatever it is that seems suitable and I can do it without a second spent thinking of the way you would have it.
I’ll be damned
it I let that happen again, if I let things end this way.
