When Your Card Gets Declined At Therapy | Poetry Collection Part 1 ©

In Vain.

The lipstick stains on the unopened letters to you are fading.

Sitting in a closed box in my wardrobe,

in the hope to find you.

Met as strangers, were we meant to stay this way?

To keep our voices from the other, our  feelings at bay?

I get it, it was never meant to be.

When I turned right,

There was no one left but me,

Because you turned left,

Since you were never right,

Especially not after our fight.

How can one vanish without a trace

for half a year and never return?

I asked for a ride home in your car,

Back to my place,

Never asked for your number nor the scar

That you left like a disgrace

on my heart.

It healed ugly, you made sure,

to pull the stitches far too soon.

When my mind dared to forget, your existence would sprinkle gentle hurtful reminders into my day,

Just like you once had ended up in my way.

Sure enough, I did my part, you did yours,

That’s perhaps what people mean with the course of life.

But you disregarded it.

When everyone was tired, all asleep,

You’d hit me up,

Like some backup plan you’d keep.

You always opted for the choices in your way,

Not the voices that told you to watch out, that’s the price you had to pay.

Life was lottery, Love was the game,

I was the gamble, you won the fame.

And though I might be writing in my rhymes

About you a lot of times,

And perhaps it seems like I’m blaming you for the pain

you caused on me,

I still remember the times you called me being in vain.

Suddenly, the knife I told you I’d use to protect you with was laying under my bed.

You hurt me, yet for my part,

I kept stitching your cold heart, desperate to find an ounce of emotion,

Until I ran out of thread.