poetry

january sixth

            [ember manson]
     
         
my fingers tugged at my strands of brittle dry jet black hair angrily, how could you say those words to me? your voice filled with some much hatred, large blows of red and blue fire hurled towards me, hitting its target, my heart. my broken heart. my dark green eyes felt overused from all of the tear leakage flowing from them, like a waterfall.
     
maybe you were right when you said, "you're selfish, you never think about me and my feelings," maybe you were right when you said, "i want someone to love me, i'm tired of putting forth all the effect and not getting any in return," i melted against a chair i found in the woods near our hangout. maybe i, ember manson, was a horrible girlfriend, who only thought of herself because no one would.
     
"i'm sorry," i mumbled, watching my breath turn into mist like an apparition. my chest felt frozen as the cold air wrapped around my body, cuddling up to me, making me feel slightly protected. my eyes averted over to the open pack of cigarettes almost falling from my jacket, i took one out, placing it between my chapped lips, the smoke looked beautiful as it danced its way up to the clouds.
    
bad thoughts, bad mindset and stress causes my mind to crave nicotine, he knew that. he knew when i had reached my lowest point, the white in my eyes were turned into red, the light brown pigmentation of my arms would be replaced with maroon lines and bruised small circles from a cigarette end. my lungs felt drier by the second, and my eyes were becoming more moist, gosh i disliked crying, "i'm such a stupid crybaby." the mumble of my voice made me cringe, it sounded broken and small.
      
"em?" the nickname made me turn around, i was hoping to see my harshly truthful boyfriend, in my heart i wanted him to apologize for being so honest, why'd you have to be so honest? but, i saw him instead. my favorite childhood friend, magically we still communicated, unlike the others.
     
"hi," i mumbled, trying to hit the deadly stick from his sight, everyone knew that when i smoked, bad things usually happened. "what's wrong? what happened?" as he asked, my eyes felt like a dam being broken, the salty clear water rushed over them, rolling down my chin and into the fabric of my shirt. i could feel the comforting grip he had on me, brushing his hand over the back of my thick black hair, as i sobbed. he already knew, he always knew my problems, even before i did.
     
"he's hurting you more than helping, em. i really wish you'd leave him," that's what you always said to me, you knew he was bad news before i did.
      
my mind didn't reply to what he had spoken, but i knew he was right, "he's right though, i am a selfish girl who doesn't care about anyone, i am the girl with too many fùcking problems. i am-" he placed his hand over my mouth, stopping the cruel words of realization from contaminating the air,
    
"stop, you are not selfish, he is. he doesn't understand how you work, he doesn't realize that your mind isn't always in a good place, he doesn't understand that you are sensitive and easily triggered, he doesn't get you, like i do." i looked at you, your soft smile made me feel content.
       
"put the cigarette out, wipe your beautiful face, and let's go get you of hot chocolate, i know you are freezing love." i stomped the cigarette to the ground and stood up, my legs were in a deep slumber and my teeth chattered.
     
"thank you for being here for me jess, you always know how to make the bad go away,"
     
    
[inspired by the quote at the top/side]
  
[it's my birthday today,]