Sometimes I try-
To picture-
How it used-
To be.
Her.
She was-
My sister.
And then-
She wasn't.
Now-
All I can see-
Is the bad.
And the look-
In her eyes..
When she was hurting.
She was broken-
Too.
And she-
Broke me.
Even more.
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But..
Actually-
I wonder if she was ever..
Really..
Even..
Broken.
Or if that-
was a LIE..
Too.
Fuck her.
Fuck this.
I'm done.
I have been-
For a long time.
But..
Sometimes-
She manages..
To creep back-
Into my mind.
But..
I'll never-
Let her..
Creep back-
Into my heart.
And maybe-
Just maybe-
I'm cruel..
For that.
But I know-
My limits.
And I went-
Far beyond them..
For her.
All-
For her.
In the end..
All I got..
Was a jumble-
of lies.
She was the one..
I couldn't-
Help.
She was the one-
That made me-
Forget..
To help-
Myself.
Too.
YOU ARE READING
The Words of a Person
PoetryMy words. Typed. As if- They could ever be called- Neat. *WARNING* Life is fucked up- So I guess I am too.