I apologise, for I am not what I told...
I was scared you'd leave
Just as the rest
I only wanted someone to hold
Someone to know me for who I am
Yet still love me through life and death
Untill then end...
It's true that I crave for love
Just not yours
The roses meant nothing
Neither did all those words
Sorry
But I never meant the things that I did
I never managed to fathom
Neither my thoughts
Nor the courage to confess
You never liked sympathy
Yet it was the only reason I stayed
I pitied your soul
For I saw myself within
Its reflections casted shadows of my name
I hate myself for what I've done
For, in reality, I only pitied myself
I was never taught how to love me
So I loved you instead
To the point where I forgot what it was like to hate myself
____________________________________________________________________________
I lied. I lied about who I was.
I just needed someone.
So I ended up faking who I was so that they'd stick around for a while.
I thought maybe I'd find the true meaning of love...
I craved for what they gave me. However, I learnt that I didn't need their love. I needed to be loved by one person only. The one who would love me unconditionally. Yet they loathe me...
I never loved them. It was merely pity, but I never had the guts to tell them. Especially since they hated pity. I saw myself in them. I saw the same pain, the same struggles. I knew I pitied myself, so I automatically pitied them too.
Since people say you need to love yourself before being capable of loving another. I never loved myself, so I tried convincing myself that whatever I was doing was love.
It was never love... And I feel guilty for making that person feel as if they held my heart.
I ended up getting so involved with them that I momentarily forgot who I really was. I got so lost in the act and actually thought I was, for once, a good human being.
So I basically lied about who I was, to make someone love me. I convinced them that I felt the same for them, even though I didn't. I never had the courage to tell them because I know it'd hurt them...
They still think I love them... and I hate myself for that.
YOU ARE READING
The Ember Garden
PoesíaIt's the journey through life The quest of finding herself In which homes are left, people are met, mistakes are made and there's a whole lot of regret She's never let the pain get to her, well at least that's what people think. However, only her di...
