I'm mad that I wanted you.
I hate that with the simplicity of a song so much can overflow back to me.
I was doing so well.
So ******* well.
Ignorance is bliss as they say.
To cut you out is to cut out that bit of myslef that was causing the pain too.
And thats how I liked it.
But as those words that leave the speaker,
So does any thought, desire or hope, that I could really just cut you out like that.

Its this time of night that the temptation creeps in.
The curiosity of what a message would envoke.
What truths could be set free,
Or more realistically; what lies would continue.
Regaining composure, to remember
I wont grant you the power to disapoint me again.

traps waiting to snap
luring you in
to push you free at the last minute
before the jaws are slammed shut for good.
its a favour, although the questions of why and the tears along your face
you don't want to be trapped within this trap where I live.

I need to stop giving you the power to dethrone me.

I showed you my scars
And opened my pain before your eyes.
You made the choice to pierce my heart
So those scars were now wounds again

You’re actually not worth my ******* tears.

It was never love.

I truly loved you. With all my being.
But your actions forced me to make the decision and identify;
I deserved and owed it to myself that same level of love and respect.
And that’s why I walked away

I hate that I gave you the power to hurt me.
And I never will again.

I think there's an extra layer of pain in the level of pain I feel.  It shows I had never loved, how I loved you.

I have loved you with every piece of my soul,
the parts that make up my heart,
the parts I'm not even totally sure how to locate.
I loved you with it all.
Everything within me.
And I knew not just because of the ways our eyes would meet,
or in the times we'd smile as we took turns letting our loved ones know;
"I'm going to marry him/her."
I know because when you broke me you broke all of me.
Pieces I didn't know could carry feelings
Now felt crushed into a million,
Each weighed down by their own pain.
I know because the cliche's
Of girls being unable to eat
and going slightly crazy
No longer were something of a dramatic film.
But an experienced reality straonger than any other thing I've felt.
I was filled with fury,
So sure each part of me was cabale of turning red
Causeing burn to the touch
In the way my body consitantly shook from the adreinalin beneith my skin and the hollowness of my body lacking fuel.
Everything no long being apitising,
Just chores I was told I had to do.
I was angry with every fiber in my being.
In ways I've never felt,
And weren't prepared for.
Because it was you.
It was never meant to be you.
The tears that burnt my skin werent meant to blame you
The torture inflicted was never meant to have you as the cause.
The sleepless nights and workouts at 4am with hopes of exhaustion
Were never meant to be caused by you.
Entering my dreams turning them to nightmares.
It was you.
I was not prepared for it to be.

Because, it was always meant to be you...
Just in every possible alternative way.
It was meant to be you holding me while I cried.
It was meant to be you to fetch the tea.
It was meant to be you to embrace the stillness when words couldnt offer much.
It was meant to be you to chose the songs of emotion and love.
It was meant to be you in every other possible way.

But now I need to learn to know.
Who a person is
And who you thought they could be
Are rarely the same..

the truth is, or so ive recently learned.
games of love are just manipulations in disguise.

I had to be okay
Because it was judged others were worse.
I wasn't aloud to be angry,
Because others were angrier.
I needed the help.
But none was there.
It had all already been allocated to those who needed it 'more'.
I needed my parents,
But only ever had one.
And that one's attention was to busy with another.
I begged the other to step up,
But should of know only the inevitable would follow,
Betrayal and disapointment.
I had to be okay,
Because it was judged that others were worse.
So I became worse.
Losing the fights I had to face alone.
But I was "strong"
I was "independant"
I was "okay"
The truth is I just wasn't a priority,
When I needed to be one.
I was sick of being strong,
I was sick of feeling weak,
I was sick of not being aloud to be angry.
So I became angrier.
My voice would never be heard,
No matter how loud I became.
No matter how logical or articulate.
I was forever fighting,
With the more people shutting me down,
The more I fought.
I was not a priority for anyone.
Even fighting myself.
I could never accept their words,
Deep down begging myself to believe in the truth.
But what truth?
How true is something when everyone who is close to it is in denial
A truth I tried to self teach,
Became this glimmer of hope.
Please Lord let this be the truth.
Let it truly be wrong to be treaated this way.
Please Lord let it not be 'normal'
I can't be the only one not to accept this.
It's a funny thing acceptance.
When everyone goes against you
Recreating this 'truth'.
It is all to easy to get lost in it,
And thats where I found myself.
Lost in every version of this "truth".
Just hanging to this glimmer of hope of what my truth, truly is.

You’ll never know what you did to me
Now I know that line is clichè
But it’s true.
Never will I allow it to leave my lips for your ears.
I will continue the toughness and laugh at your attempts to make me jealous. Knowing full well should I choose to enter that game, the victory would be mine.
This is all you’ll see.
An Ice queen capable of cutting you off, never to bat an eye lid your way ever again.
Prehaps even left you wondering why or what you had done wrong.
Guessing if I found out, or how much I knew to be true.
This is what you’ll get from me.

What you won’t see is all the typed and deleted messages.
The screams into the pillow and my fists attempt to release some level of fury that fills my veins.
You’ll never know how many tears fell or how many boys were turned away.

You will become a mess not knowing what a mess you made of her.

The closer I let you in,
The more I have to lose.

To be vulnerable is not my strong suit,
I see it as a short fuse.
Not much good could come
Of letting people in.
Let alone someone I actually care about.
Where would I begin.
To lose would feel like nothing,
Though you are not mine to have lost.
With everything that passes by,
The inability to feel the cost/
As the momories come flooding past now,
It is I who drove the end.
What a foolish girl.
Pushing people past what they can mend.
It is a self reflection.
A trap between two minds.
What is deserved and what is deprived.
A foolish little girl,
Who should know better than to play games.
Even if they unconsicously take place.
One can not go on, testing in these ways.