You're too far gone,
so I guess it's the end
and I'll quit holding on.
A wise man once said,
"You only lose
what You cling to."
Heartbreak has existed ever since
the world has been turning-
for so long, for so many breaks.
Mine may mean nothing.
It may be forgotten with time,
as time heals all wounds.
As I yearn for the times
where that will be true,
I lay awake late to think.
I think of many things,
including a new break-
Who will he be? And why will he be mine?
Even a new break would be...
well kinder than You,
because You forgot.
You forgot how we talked-
about shows and shopping,
and a silly thing called Dubstep.
You forgot how we bonded-
over church and annoyances,
but never about pain, that's saved for now.
You forgot how we acted-
the stolen looks and the obvious smiles,
and the awkward us.
That was the beauty in all of this-
I was awkward,
and so were You.
That was the irony in all of this-
I was smart,
and You were... not.
That was the fun in all of this-
we could have been perfect,
You and I.
We could have had those marathons,
and dressed up on Halloween,
and gone to those movies.
You could have played guitar,
and I could have been breathless,
and written a thousand words.
You could have taught me to skateboard,
and I could have taught You math,
among so many other things.
The things I would have done for You,
The girl I wanted to be for You,
You have no idea what You caused.
The feelings I felt for the old You
were like nothing before
and nothing since.
You messed me up, even broke me.
I can no longer talk to anyone
other than You.
You don't want me,
but no one else can have me.
How is that fair?
So I am scared.
Scared that I fell to hard, to young
and that only time can heal this girl.
I was never the girl to think
that all the guys must like me,
quite the opposite.
But with You it was different.
With You I knew.
You had to have liked me.
At some point in our short story,
You decided I was beautiful-
I was worth it.
At some point in our short story,
You forgot I was perfect-
I was unwanted.
I will not say I am here crying,
because I am not.
I am wallowing.
The thing is- I'm tired of wallowing.
I want time to give me a remote
so I can fast-forward to the healing.
I am tired
of falling again and again,
over and over.
I fall for your smile each time,
I fall for those blue eyes,
as much as I wish to fall into beautiful water.
I fall for your wierdness,
I fall for your awkwardness,
I fell for You.
Then
You
Changed.
So do me one favor.
Please clean up your life.
You could be perfect once again.
I see You now,
and really I'm not mad,
only disappointed.
Not just in us, but in You.
The You that could have been,
I'm afraid he might be long gone.
I always thought pain
brought people together,
as something to cling to as they fell.
But pain, I believe,
was what drew us apart-
separate pains at the wrong time.
I had my troubles and fears,
and though You stayed silent,
I know You did too.
I saw it on your face,
but time only made it clearer,
Not healed.
They say time heals all wounds.
So maybe, just maybe,
it can heal You as well.
But what if I am wrong?
What if time will heal nothing?
Only open the soul to more of the dark.
I desperately hope I am right
and time will heal both
me and You.
I know what they think.
How could I wish You the best
after the breaks You caused?
My friends see smoke
when they see You.
They only want the best for me.
And the best is no longer You.
I still wish You everything
regardless of the eye rolls.
Because it's true, maybe Someday
Time will end,
And we'll see each other again.
Promise me that You
will have your guitar,
that the nights will not rob You.
Promise me that You
will still have your taste in shows,
that the 'friends' will not rob You.
Promise me that You
will still have your skateboard,
that the pain will not rob You.
Because pain should not come
like a thief cloaked in black
ready to plunder.
Instead it should come
before the healing,
after time.
The memories I have of us could fill pages. The words I need to say could keep coming. But at some point I need to stop; because that is what this poem is really for, to tell you goodbye. The longer I write, the longer I hold on. So I'm done and I need to stay done. This one's for you, let's have it end here.
