Saying your name will always hurt.

I believed you when
you said that you would love me
forever.
I nodded benignly through my tears
when you said you never
wanted to hurt me like this again,
and that's why
you did it then.
I wanted to kiss you
when you reached
for my hand and told me
this was only because you wanted
to be there for me.
I tried to forgive you,
so we could be friends
like you wanted
because until then
I was amazed by the way
you knew and understood me,
you were my safety blanket when
I hadn't felt safe before
and because of this I was
blind to the ropes you tied to me
like I was a broken marionette.

Now I can't believe
you saw my scars and didn't kiss them,
let alone allow me to tell you their story.
I can't believe you ****** my friend
two weeks after
you took knives to the places in my heart
you knew would hurt me most.
But mostly,
I can't believe you expected me
to crawl back into your arms after all this.

I want to throw at you
all the notebooks I've wasted
writing about you.
I want to scream at you for
treating my heart like either
(I can't decide which is more true)
a playtoy or something that
you could save,
neither of which were right.

I realize you're worth none of this.
You're not the girl I fell in love with,
you're not the girl I trusted with all of me,
and I don't miss you
I miss that girl.

I tried to hard to forgive you,
but you don't deserve that.

All I can do is forget.

(Sincerely) *******.

A mother who listens to soft classical Mozart
Reclined against the soft, worn pillow from ages
slender fingers easily flicking through a catalog,
while a father is hunched over
in the cold den, racked with coughs and pains, trembling fingers trying to hold on to the metallic foil of medicine.
And a child, barely 4
playing with stuffed animals on the couch
a victim of Tay Sach

A car, and a windowpane, that have both seen too much,
ragged advertisements fluttering in the wind,
advertising a movie coming out yesterday,
A burger shop ad that had already long closed,
and deals long gone.
The downtown urban forest, turned into a junkyard
full of scraps of rusted silver and infected bronze.

A bystander who can do nothing but laugh
as a boy's nose gets crushed in,
a ****** lip,
A swollen, purple eye
A boy of 18
who is still waiting for her somewhere
to see her colored smile
and eyes of glass
bitter and emotionless, glazed over with sterling silver,
who has a family, siblings,
who is now turned into nothing but a ragged playtoy for the sick, sick entertainment of others

A broken air conditioner that can do nothing but clack clack clack over and over again, metal blades spinning vainly for nothing,
while a broken family is screaming in the other room,
and a child is crying, hands to his face, covering his eyes
as a father hits his wife, knocks her against the sharp, tiled kitchen counter,
and the screaming intensifies, accompied by the hurtful insults that are thrown at each other-by the father and the teen.
and still the air conditioner goes on and on
oblivious to nothing.

A world that is so breathtaking and cruel at the same time
where little, insignificant families are torn apart without a second thought,
where the 'strong' prey on the 'weak'
Where the most beautiful sprawling cities turn into rejected second handers just because of a rumor
And,
A mother who listens to soft classical Mozart
Reclined against the soft, worn pillow from ages, ages ago
full of tears and stiches  
slender fingers easily flicking through a catalog, searching for the most effective medicine, eyes flickering in worry
while a father is hunched over
in the cold den because
he doesn't want to risk spreading his sickness to anyone else
racked with coughs and pains, trembling fingers trying to hold on to the metallic foil of medicine.
Working hard to support his family because the economy is going down again
And a child, barely 4
playing with stuffed animals on the couch
a victim of Tay Sach,
dead at 6.

it is hard to be a girl because you are torn between what you are supposed to do and what you are supposed to want, nevermind what you really feel, because that is the role you play:
this is the price you pay.

you are supposed to want a good boy,
a relationship,
opened doors and emotional connection,
nothing more intense than holding hands in public
and a white, white wedding down the line.

and if you decide that you want something else,
if you are interested in nothing more and nothing less
than dim-lit nights and passing men
the intoxication of physical contact,
no expectations expected,
than you are broken, or you are in denial,
and no one wants a crazy girl.

you are supposed to do
whatever he tells you to,
whatever he asks, in that careful tone,
that tells you what it means if you say no.
he knows, and you do not,
and you are his playtoy,
even though you are a woman
and he is a boy.

and if you decide that you will not stand for it,
question him or make him talk,
push emotions on him that he is not yet mature enough to handle,
(nevermind that he is older than you, but there is such a word as man-child but not woman-child because we have no choice but to grow up),
then you a *****, then you are a fool,
then you will lose him,
or worse,
he will tell the world,
and you will lose yourself.

so you tell me that I am supposed to want one thing and do another?
you do not want me to want to do what he says,
and yet you expect me to obey anyway?
I am supposed to have no desire beyond a child's,
no needs like he has,
and yet I am supposed to lay there nonetheless,
obedient but not longing,
just following the unwritten rules.

you want me to be unhappy, I see it now,
it is a game that I am never meant to win.
either I am broken and strange
or destined to be alone...
what kind of choice is that?

so I grit my teeth and pretend I don't want this,
pretend that I do not ache for more unrestful nights,
pretend that I love you when I do not,
I just love touching you,
that is your expectation,
but if I ever said it,
it would mean my downfall and my shame.

they tell you, in these situations,
that you need to be yourself,
but no one ever gave me that kind of choice.

they showed me beauty and love and said:
"here is the role a woman will play"
"this is the price you have to pay"

To You.

Hey.
I heard what happened.
I'm not going to bother with that 'are you okay' stuff.
Because clearly, you're not.
And you won't be for a while.
When something like that happens, you can't just be 'okay'.
You can say you're okay.
You can act like you're okay.
But a true friend of yours knows you're not.

They can't use your heart as a playtoy when it's worth so much more than that.
You are worth so much more than that.

You fell in love, and they crashed you down.
They smashed you on the ground.

You can't just smash a plate on the ground and expect it to go back together instantly.

No matter how many times you beg, or ask nicely, or wish, it won't fix itself by itself.

A heart is the same way.

And when people say those things to you, those terrible things...
Then your heart breaks even more. Even more pieces to fix.

But I'm here.
I'll pick up the glue.
And I'll work on mending your heart.

Not fixing. You can't fix something like that.
But at least stitching it all together in a heart-like shape.

I won't let you stay broken.

Because you don't deserve that, no matter what they say.

Do you know what you do deserve?

You deserve love.
You deserve to be loved.
You deserve the world.
You deserve the entire universe in the palm of your hand.

And I wish I could be the one to give it to you.

But even though I can't, I'll stay by your side.
I hope knowing that makes you feel better.

I can't replace them. I can't truly fix the damage they've done.
But I can be here.

You just tell me what you need. Okay? Even if it means that you want me to leave. Because all I care about is that you're happy.

Promise me that you'll take care of yourself. I know everything's really tough right now, but I need you to be strong.
I know you're strong. You're stronger than anyone I know.

So please, just stay with me, alright? I believe in you.

It'll all be okay.

Love,
Me.