I think I'm him, atleast thats what I want to believe
I see her face, and mine repulsed in disgust
I've never wanted more than to see her in a world of untrust
I hated everything about her, her hair, her body, the way she looked, acted, talked, her eyes
Everything.
Why did I though?
Was it what she did?
The reaction?
Or what it led to?
Was it the consequences I had to make up for?
The jealousy?
The want?
The need to be in her time but not her.
Like I could make up for everything she did.
Fix it
And live how I was supposed to.
But realizing I was in the now, I could never be in the then, and fix what happened.
Because what happened then was not now, and I could never go back.
As much as I thought about how I could relive it, the pain of realizing I couldn't grinded so deeply into my soul
Edging so deep, clawing holes thicker and thicker into my skin until it left scars unfixeable.
Unfixeable because of what she did.
I was responsible for her ignorance.
But that was the past, and the scars now getting deeper and deeper, I could only learn from them, and get stronger from them.
I may have changed, but the pain is still the same, but now I realize it, and it makes me resent her more.
For what she did.
YOU ARE READING
(Poetry????) Plight Of The Mind, Heart, And Soul
Poetrytitle is dramatic af, bassicaly schizophrenia in a not so neatly packed package. (It has nothing to do with moons 🗿🗿🗿) Ok so it's kinda a story about my life, and a little pro tip at the end!
