About You

Scribbled In Red Ink Back To You

You can be many things for me so I'll never see who you truly are.
And when I say 'I love you just the same'.
You whisper under your breath, 'You really don't'.
You think that you can be the person I chase after or the person who watches me chase someone else, and you stay up at night thinking you'll never be the one who doesn't love me at all.
You wrote the poem that was supposed to be about finding love, not letting it all go. Like you did to me.

You're always sad, even when you are happy. And you become lonely,  even when you are surrounded. You wonder if you'll ever meet me... Or never do.
But I told you nothing to keep and all things to hate. Like when I throw bottles and scream at you. Like when I yell ' I wish you never met me'  and slam the door at your face. You hate it but could never hate me. When I'd lock the bathroom door and crash the medicine cabinet. You would bang on the door and cry till I hear no sound. You fell asleep on the floor.
When I cut myself and watch red pour down. And I would curl up and slap myself to bruises. But I'll come back and hold you like you'd fade soon. I'll cry and say I'm sorry.  I'd help you wash the dishes and smile when you giggle into my hug. I'd thread you bracelets and learn how to braid your hair. Warmth,  I saw it in your eyes when you looked at me. I changed and you couldn't hold it against me when I became all you wanted. I'd burn myself and you still sleep on my embers. The sky becomes all colours but blue,  and it hurts but you just see me.  I hurt and hurt you too. Maybe I didn't realise it. And you'd go making excuses for me, later thinking I don't need you so you can't blame me.
So you can't hate me as much as you already did.
I'd make you happy and then would go drown you in my sadness. How inevitable it was , you thought. The end of you and I.
You'll forget about the promises I made soon enough as I lift the fourth bottle of alcahol. And just when you're walking back home I will cross your mind,  but you wouldn't even remember the color of my eyes. As you get ready to go our with your friends, you wouldn't hesitate to slam the door shut. And when my name comes up, your chest wouldn't tighten  and your eyes wouldn't hurt. You'll see me and walk pass like we're just strangers, no...just people who don't talk anymore. Just people.
But I'm in the kitchen right now making coffee for you with the smug smile you love. My scent is on the t-shirt you're wearing but your finger feels heavy with the ring clasping around it. Maybe if you hold it in for a little while it will disappear. But you see it. You really see the end of you and I.