Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
I used to wish I had
another life

daydream
about living
without the stress of mine
"if only,
life had given me
better cards to play"

now, I'm just envious
of others
minds

it's not
the cards I was dealt
that are the problem-

it's the constant overlooking
of plays
I could have made
continuous mistakes
my own
personal
issues
preventing me
from turning out
on top

used to think
(still kind of do)
that everyone who was
"happy"
were just deceiving themselves

lying
telling theirself
that they were happy
so much so
that they
believed it-
using
distractions
to keep their misery at bay

now I realize
that thought
was quite a bit
of self-projection

how nice it would be
to have passion again
emotion
my outgoing nature

I've been dealing with her for years
which leaves me to wonder-
has my personality
just been
a fabrication
a mask that I've worn
to hide
depressions ugly visage?
have I worn it
so frequently that
I started to recognize it
as my own
reflection?

I don't know who I am anymore
though,
it's not like I ever have

I don't know what life is anymore
I've definitely
never known
what that's been all about

for the past six months,
(year?....)
(two years?...)
(my entire life?...)
I've only had
two states
of emotion-
dark blue
or
gray

dark blue
is when I am inconsolable
with tears
absolute misery
my soul
shattered
into a million pieces

dark blue
is when I have
panic attacks
over how horrible
of a person I am
lying
on my bathroom floor
choking on my own tears
choking on my own breath

gray
is
nothingness
something
horrible could happen to me
a job loss,
a heartbreak,
a loss of a friend
and I will experience
no emotion

like an empty
void
throw whatever the ****
you want in there
I promise you
there will not be any
reaction

gray
with random
and sudden
bursts of blue

not the most
excruciating pain
just the constant
dull
throbbing
of the grayish blue
bruise
that you're always
trying
to cover up

I will
never
go away
upset with myself for not writing for two days
Why am I still ******* to you?
I hate that you're beautiful.
that I'm too weak to delete this picture.
That the most intimate thing left of you
is your body.
After four years of living out every fantasy.
A home,
baby,
making dinner,
fighting,
making up,
waking up next to you.
All i'm left with
is this carnal desire to possess you again
like you used to belong to me.
And isn't that the worst thing.
Isn't that the whole reason I left in the first place.
Because we both knew that nobody belongs to anyone.
Yet after all my grieving
All my lovers between now and then.
This is the memory I cherrish most.
This last chance to steal you.
When we were already breaking We thought it might save us.
How foolish we were.
See in the picture you can tell we were breaking.
Your eyes begging to forget.
Just like I beg to forget you.

The first time I saw you walk into a room
I deleted all the naked photographs of my ex lover in that instant.
Just in case you checked.
Just in case I flirted with you.

No girl has earned that same memory.

It belongs to you.
See, memories you can claim.
But not people.

The time you refused to accept
blankets between us and the cold ground
of our tent would keep us warmer
than piling them all on top of us.
That we can keep.
That mistake belongs to us.

The night we took this photograph.
The curvature of your hips.
Your arms hung dead like the maronette strings snapped that day.

That's a memory That i've captured.
See, even though you're gone and I don't have you.
I have this picture.

Why is it that i can go every day of my life loving people for who they are.
Seeing their dreams and past lives.

But with you
Blood.
I see this carnal need to devour you
like some delicacy.
Some favorite dish.

I hate that you're still beautiful.
I hate that you turn me into this monster.

One who sees girl as flesh not human.
Bones as shield not structure.

And it's only you.
This one thing i hate.
Who I need to ****.
Who I need to possess again.

I'm so glad I left you.
Glad I killed the monster.
But I can't delete this picture.

Every lonely night That I would cry alone and miss you, I don't.
I crave you instead.
Claw into your flesh
pull out a still regretably beating heart.

I feed it to this beast.
That demands you dehumanized.
pray I never see you in real life again.
fear that may be the last day I'm human.

— The End —