Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Feb 2013
You know something? Forget it.
Yesterday I made a decision, it has slammed down on me hard today that
It was the wrong one.
Do I honestly care what you do? No.
I'm done with pussyfooting around.
You may read this and you are welcome to take the self-centred route,
To think this is all directly for you.
This is not for you, nor about you, nor solely aimed at you.
This is for all of you.
I am not talking about your precious little squad,
Your comfort or your hollow friendships. They were once mine, too, remember?
This is about me.
I am completely aware of how I am feeling right now,
I am confronting how I feel and this is simply the first step.
Unlike you (yes, this is specifically yours), I do not take comfort in the
Sorrow of others. I do not see it as right to take pleasure in someone's hurt.
What did it provide you with? Did you get the recognition you crave for your words?
I realise you have removed it from the public domain, good choice.
I realise this is my opinion but you daren't knock it for what it is.
Would it be foolish of me to call myself a friend now? Yes.
Would it be foolish of me not to say these words, with the hope that you will loathe them? Yes.
If what I think, if what I write, if what you are reading, hurts then feel hurt,
But do not think for a second you should feel hurt and move on.
I only ever wanted to help you but you constantly refuse.
I know you. I know you want to change but you're holding back.
I know you because that was me, and trust me - it gets you nowhere.
You doubt that people like you and at the same time you say things to hurt them.
You choose to say those words. Your apology afterwards means nothing.
Like others, I say that it's fine but it never is. It's never okay to hurt others for your benefit.
When has that ever been the definition of friendship?
Enough. This is beginning to become pointless. It likely always has been.
Do you want to know something? My week has been terrible.
In comparison to the lives of others, it has been average, but I am not them.
I have not quite been myself, again. I have been more stable but still,
I have not quite been myself. Who has cared to ask me how I am?
Not. One. Soul. At least not outside of courtesy.
It is generally a way of opening conversation to ask "How are you?"
I will respond with 'Not so great', 'I've been better' or most recently 'So-so'
And not one single person asks why that is.
Except for one.
Directed to you, once again, for this is important.
You often told me you thought everyone hated you. Do you ever ask yourself why?
Perhaps it's because you openly ignore their wishes, you expose information about them that they entrusted you with.
I dread to think what you have told others about me, there were things I told you in confidence.
It's unfortunate that I cannot trust nor believe you kept your mouth shut.
Not that any of it matters now. I'm done with you and your lack of respect.
I woke up today to find my request had been dealt with, I only wish you would do the same.
I understand, though, that life doesn't always give you what you want and perhaps that's luck.
I asked someone what I can do to help fix myself, they provided me with eleven steps.
I feel like it won't work, but I'm doing it anyway. Yesterday was horrific.
I had a fever, and I had nobody to look after me. I had nobody to talk to and nothing to make me feel any better.
I spent my day under a blanket of three covers and yet I was still shivering.
I thought for a moment 'Is this a migraine?' as the intensity of my headache was so severe.
I could not move, I could not bring myself to move.
I had aching muscles and I did not care for food. I knew I ought to eat something to get my strength up but I could not muster more than a yoghurt. Nothing tasted right.
I was dehydrated and weak. It was almost as if my body was mimicking the sufferings of my mind.
My heart is not broken but it may as well be. Someone threw it in my face, once. Practically laughed at me.
I simply reminded myself that immaturity is not something that I admire. I brushed it off, but it still comes back to me every now and then. I can hear that laughter. How cruel and selfish humans can be.
Besides, this love is the kind of love that does not limit itself to my wants, or my needs, or my desires.
GloriouslyFlawed
Written by
GloriouslyFlawed  31/Cisgender Female/UK
(31/Cisgender Female/UK)   
  939
   ---
Please log in to view and add comments on poems