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When I first saw you, I don't know what I thought. Your hair was straight, and your bangs swooped to one side mearly covering the corner of your eye. You were talkative, clearly not my type. And yet, we held engaging conversations for 3 hours. I had forgotten your name, but I thought it would be nice for you to be my friend anyway.

Time passed and you opened my mind up to a lot of things, like not settling too young. You said you wanted me, and yet would not give me such a committing title as to say Girlfriend. I pushed you to like me. I was in such awe of you.

You were talented. I encouraged all of your successes. But I didn't see your true talent. You were talented in other ways that were malicious.
You were with two women. You were out with me by day, and talking with her at night. Confused about which one you liked more.

But it wasn't even about which of us you liked more. It was a game of chase. You waited to see which one of us would run after you the most.

Even after you gave me the long awaited title, you didn't tell me reasons you liked me other than the fact that I had won. Like you were some big prize at a carnival I had wasted all of my tickets on all the games trying to win a version of you. The version I thought was cool, and a version I could adore.

I wouldn't say it was a facade, or an illusion, or an illustration in my head. The version of you was real, but it was simply not the only version.

Some nine months later, you had declared a new version of yourself. One you said was better than all the others. One you claimed was going to be the final one. I had to grieve for the old ones, but had to accept the new one quicker.
I went to all of your appointments. Every doctor you had visited. Helped you develop your voice. Encouraged you when you got discouraged. And yet I was so discouraged.

You buried yourself. In other people, and in other things, never turning to look at me. I was helping you find your voice yet your voice would never speak to me directly. There was always someone else you rather talk to.

I found my solice in a few other people, too. When you took notice, that voice i never heard towards me, would suddenly boom into my ear as a loud sob. Also admitting all of your promises to me would be lies.

I was a Villan now. Untrustworthy. But had you not done the same? Wasn't it you who started it? Had it become another game?

I'd like to think I got good at the game, however I was still playing by your rules, and you were still the ruler. I had tried to cut the strings many times but you were still my puppeteer.

As I slept with one eye open, expecting you to scream at me in the dead of night- as you often did- I wondered, was this a new version of you, or was this your true version all along? Was this who you were when I met you? Was the adoration I had for you since the start...delusion?

You scream and you sob, and yet I can't hear you anymore. Your voice was hoarse and strained, and had becoming nothing more than white noise like rain on my metaphorical window sill. All the rain- the sobbing, and I still couldn't sleep.

I started to hear voices in an empty room. Angels? Hallucinations. You had encouraged I take a sip of alcohol, but the sip turned into bottles, routinely. And yet I still couldn't sleep.

I felt nothing. Absolutely nothing. I grabbed a knife I had stowed in my pocket, just to see if I could still feel such human pain. As the blade mearly touched my skin I wondered, how deep could I go? Now a scar I carry with me for the rest of my life.

Maybe you were my hallucination. Every bad day, bad experience I had in a person. I feel like it was training. Training me for the types of people I might encounter in my lifetime. Teaching me how to solve such a problem.

Did God give you the right for such an act? Such false promises and falsettos? I still cannot think of a reason for all that I endured. And will continue to search for one.
Bridget Allyson Mar 2017
He said that I'd never have to breathe again.
Breathing wasn't necessary.
He said wounds would never be made.
I'd never feel the sting.
He said I wouldn't drown.
Stay above the water.

His love makes me immortal.

I'm gasping for oxygen.
It is so necessary.
The blood now drains from my skin.
The pain is excruciating.
And I find myself going deeper.
Unable to breathe underwater.

Because his love had made me immortal.
  Jan 2017 Bridget Allyson
Torin
No wing is not broken
For the bird who most needs to fly

It was
Never
About filling empty spaces
It was
Only
About finding places to belong

Let the dark day come
When he finds his wings
Can't deliver him

No river meets the ocean
For the big fish in the little pond

It was
Never
About leaving the comfort of home
It was
Only
About finding a place he could belong

Let the dark day come
When he finds the current
Can't deliver him

No poet is not troubled
No poet is not troubled
Let the dark day come
When he finds that art
Can't deliver him
Bridget Allyson Jan 2017
I am an angel,
Floating above the earth high up in the sky
Where no one can see my tears of happiness and grief
Yes, even angels cry

You are a spirit,
With feet stuck in the ground
Your memories latch onto your shoes and they pull you
They pull you down

Once,
My eyes met yours
And it was like a kaleidoscope of everything you’d ever regret
Your brain is an all-out war

I am an angel,
Who came down to save you
I rip your shoes from the concrete
Wanting you to save me too.
Bridget Allyson Nov 2016
I knew we both hurt but I couldn’t be this way without him.
He gave me the kind of attention that I craved for.
And yet, that was not all he was capable of.

I knew we were both hurt but that didn’t matter.
It was fun to start over, and learn all over again.
I don’t know if that’s how it was for him, but it was for me.

When my skin decays and my blood dries out
You will be the one to bring me back to life
In some other form.
Bridget Allyson Oct 2016
I never meant to hurt her.
But I hate to see him shake.
I had never seen him cry.
But her eyes are full of hate.

He writes sorry on his lips.
As I have tears on mine.
I know he is,
But we've all run out of time.

I never meant to hurt her.
But I hate to see him weep
Never again are the bad memories to live
Never are they to keep.

As he resides in his chair,
And I reside in mine.
She holds my hand.
As truth shines.
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