It burns. So deathly excruciating.
It's like a never-ending, heart wrenching feeling, that separates all other emotions, all other pains, and all other scars apart.
That feeling of regret and fallen memories, colliding with each other and dragging you down so low that Hell appears to be Heaven.
Why? Why after so many years?
After so many others have managed to steal my heart, even if it was just for a moment.
Why? Even though I know those days are over, that they could never begin again, that there will always be a broken link and I will always shatter, fall, and crumble once more.
Why are these emotions still here? Why do they linger like a black cloud, suffocating me and chaining me down like a wild animal?
I know that you are only a memory, so then why are you still here?
Why do I think about you, dream about you?
Why even though I know all of your flaws and your undeniably inexcusable actions do I grip at my heart and say "I still love you"?
Even though time after time I have told myself the very opposite.
Time and time again I have banished you from my life and yet hoped there was still a chapter left of this dark story.
Why after so many countless times where I have been defeated by you, where I have fallen once more for the ****** games you play,
twisting your black fingers around my spine and seeing how far you can go until it breaks?
Why do my forsaken eyes mistake you as an angel, when you are the devil himself?
Must I continue to have hope, wishing that I could try again, even though I know you're going to once more watch as I lose all sight of the truth?
Sinister and vile as you are, relish in my delusional state, knowing you have me in your claws which scrape at my back and leave scars that not even God could heal.
Do you even know how disgusting, how sickening and maddening it feels to know that you can't even see the pain you have inflicted on me? Sure you can see the bandages, but are you really that blind to the truth of their nature?
How deep these scars truly run? How badly and desperately I screamed and begged for help inside as you dug your claws into my flesh and carved them out yourself?
Can you not see the depression, the hopeless battered soul seeping through my eyes?
I pretend I am strong. I live every day breaking at the cracks and somehow manage not to collapse into a pile of broken pieces.
Tears are dried out and the ache of a heart that has been stomped on so severely that it bleeds gray is only a small burden compared to all of the rest.
I walk on a path where there is a light just in reach, but the path vanishes once you have come close enough to that hopeful light that you can brush it with the tips of your fingers.
Do you have any idea what it feels like to look in the mirror and have to remind yourself every single day that you were never good enough?
That you are a wasted canvas, painted beautifully at first but then crumpled and thrown out because you never had a chance at being satisfactory.
You will never understand that my own emotions are poisoning me.
You have grabbed at my throat and shaken me so violently that I am unable to move, paralyzed in shame. Paralyzed in sorrow.
And yet, as I look into your eyes, I am mesmerized by your face, I fall into a trace, trapped in your spell. Trapped in this deadly cycle.
You have dragged me down into this pitiful thing. This choking, lifeless relationship where I struggle to stay alive while you climb higher on your pedestal.
And despite my previous errors, I willingly fall into your hands. Blinded by the false light you shine above your head.