Please don't let this be real.

Please let this be you putting up walls

But just the flimsy kind

The ones made with those cardboard bricks from kindergarten

The ones that will fall down with a simple touch.

Please let those actions be a big, fraudy front.

Fake

Please.

I'm begging you.

I had the most horrible dream last night
About you
And her

It was your wedding
I was helping set up
Why was I doing that?

It was dark that day
Dreary
It looked like rain

I went home to change and fix my hair
But didn't have enough time
So I came back
Just the same as before

I stood in the back as she walked down the aisle
In a pink dress
Who wears pink to a wedding?

She stood up there at the altar
With you
And you looked

So
Sad

I realized that when the preacher asked
If anyone had objections
That I would have to speak

I couldn't let you end up with her
I couldn't stand to see you be with her
Unhappy
Forever.

So the parson spoke
And then so did I
I didn't care if the whole town in attendance hated me

I would rather have people hate me than see you unhappy
So I spoke
And you know what happened?

She laughed
That lady who I used to go to church with
And then that was that.

He finished and you two were married
But then, you disappeared
And everyone forgot about you

The only attention anyone paid was to you
That is not how a marriage should be
It's two people
Not one.

I made sure she didn't hate me
I didn't speak out because of her
I spoke out because of you
And how I hate seeing you unhappy

But all I could think about was you
And how you were doomed to an unhappy life
For the rest of your days

And then I woke up
Freezing
And not just because the temperature had dropped in our room

This soul survives
on hope
alone.
Chained up and
burning.
tear stained and
laughing.

Shut out this version
of living and
blackout the time.
Artificial lighting
brightens nothing.

This unemotional winter
remains as unforgiving
as a vengeful heart.

I'm in the
midst of Dantes
version.
Chattering teeth,
blue black numbing
digits.

Curl into the corner
and pour it all
out in words.
Yesterdays thoughts
documented for a
better day.

Mutilated as
Van Gogh,
troubled as the
artist.
I'm aggressive with
this,
I have no other
choice but to
remain honest.

Accepted
the association
with failure.
Long to be
remembered
for this.

The paintings on her wall,
Were like the timeline of her life.
Some were painted horribly,
To show her anger.
Some were painted white,
To show peace.
Some were painted Blue,
To show how the sadness acted like a veil over the happiness.
Some were painted black,
To show that she didn’t feel anything,
No pain,
No envy,
No happiness.
Some were painted of all shades,
To show that her life is a mix of all,
But then the paintings had splashes over of black and white,
To show,
Her life will have problems,
But there will be moments of peace,
Some of happiness,
But the shades in your life won’t leave you.