pretty lies and pretty smiles
poisonous kisses and ravenous wishes
you, another monster obscured by
sweet nothings laced with deception
me, another innocent prey to
your pitcher plant
can you tell me
how the kindest boy
can turn into the most cruel
i should've known
i could've stopped it
but the traffic light was broken
and i hadn't stopped
so i crashed with full force
but let me tell you a secret
i had seen everybody stopped
but i closed my eyes and felt the thrill
Never again will I let myself be someone's back up plan.
I was a back burner, in the shadows, half forgotten back up plan. The last thing to be thought about, and the person to be considered least. I was a placeholder to keep the loneliness and isolation at bay.
All I wanted in life was to be made to feel wanted. To finally be able to claw my way up the priority list. Maybe that's what it was.
I was not a priority.
I was nice to have around. Convenient.
I mean, distance, seperation, empty promises... I took all of it. But not only did I take it, I returned it with love, patience, loyalty. I gave time, money, energy.
Everything I had.
Everything that made me who I was as a person.
In fact, I gave so much that I lost who I was. I forgot what it was to be...me.
So when he left, when I was no longer convenient to him, he took everything with him. My laughter, my joy, my ability to find the silver lining in any situation. He took my faith, my trust, my belief in others...
But, he did leave me with something at least.
He left me with a shattered life. He left me with trust issues. With depression, and anxiety attacks at work. He left me with more tears than can be counted and endless empty tissue boxes. He left me with a shell of who I once was.
And he was gone.
I guess when it's not a priority, it's easy to leave. When the one person who sacrificed everything she had...who gave every piece of herself.
But, HE was his priority.
So no. Never again. I will never be a back pocket, third place, maybe one day girl. I will never let myself beg for affection and love again. I will NEVER be made to feel unwanted. Forgettable. Disposable.
I want to be wanted. I want to be THE priority. Because when you truly love someone, they will always be your priority.
Otherwise, you never loved them at all.
Just the convenience of them.
This is the last line of the poem.
You got there
But you don't get it
You really do need help.
Because this poem rhymes.
You just missed it.
Go back, check.
You still don’t understand?
Well, you’re delusional.
You really do need help.
It rhymes. It’s a Sonnet. Sonnets rhyme
You are not all there, trust me
It’s in iambic pentameter.
If just because you don’t get it you try to make me the villain,
It would be so hurtful since I’m helping,
You really do need help. Let me help you,
You think you know better than me...I’m the poem
You must be insanely arrogant or just psychotic
To think you know better than me
You aren’t even reading me. We already established that
You. Aren’t. Reading. This. Poem. It’s about butterflies
You really need help.
As the first line of the poem says,
“Why would I lie?”
I do it for you! I wanted to scream,
I do it all for you, you bastard!
But sometimes, when you knock on
wood, you find it hollow, an empty that
echoes, and even the loudest noise couldn't
wake that dormant emotion, those parts
of you that have retreated into sleep,
curling in on themselves.
I have been trying to let them
down gently, my floorboards. They keep
creaking at night, thinking you're still
tiptoeing around my house. How do I
tell them you're gone?
Easy's in ashes. I'll never have it again, and
I'm tired, of being tired, of feeling sorry
for myself, so hit me with your best shot.
Make it hurt. I am not above begging.
Sometimes I think I am not above
anything at all.
Unhealthy, sure, whatever, lock me up.
Kill the lights. Set the house on fire.
I don't care anymore. Lies perpetuating
lies, lies inside lies, lies lining the inside
of your throat and pushing against the
roof of your mouth.
I made a place for myself there, you know.
I made a place for the both of us, but we
were too cowardly to live in it, too weak,
and besides, what you said about me was true.
I doubt my own doubts, far more than I doubt you.