It's not every day that you get to smile at the memories without a stab of pain hitting you. Now, when I smile at the fact that you're gone. Now, that I find I've been thrown down so hard that I find dried up blood, that I eat lunch alone on a single chair in an empty dark corridor and now that I don't permit myself to cry is when I realize you turned me into a warrior. A warrior with courage, strength and pain. Don't warriors fall eventually? I think I will, but if I didn't fall on the days when I had to walk all alone feeling pain in my chest from the measure of stress and anxiety in me. Now, that I'm paralyzed, I am hardly breathing, fighting for something. Dried up blood, bruises, lonely lunches and no one to talk to, can you believe that's me every single day? I go home with headaches from loss of rest, I hum guitar notes in my head to distract myself, I get left for others, and all I can think of is that I deserve this. No one can envision it, but this warrior has fallen. This one isn't your fault, it's mine. While I admit this, I can't help but imagine a blade in my stomach... I have one last tear rolling down my face... I have blurry vision. All I can think of is how it would've been different. If you were here, would you have let me be alone? I laugh, hear a joke and tell one, then that's it. They don't know why. All my life I've been called a failure. A nobody. She said I'll never be anything. A warrior fell. This warrior fought for a long time. This warrior has been fighting alone for so long that when she goes somewhere not fighting she's said to suffer depression. I'm weak. I feel emotionally paralyzed. I don't feel anything anymore. Where's the warrior inside of me? I can feel her wanting to stop, but I won't tolerate it, I mean why would I?
Let me give you a scenario to show you what I mean. Lonely girl, no friends, first love left within a week, with five different hobbies, is left alone outside the library to eat her lunch with silence creeping its way. All she can do is stare at her expression in the glass door, all she can feel is pain from a headache and her body aches in pain as well because she was thrown down. Later that day she's getting home to find dried blood and an aching knee. Yet, look at me, I am just fine. I hate you. I hate hearing your name because anything I say is related back to you. I don't want you back. I never wanted this, so, tell them to quit, I don't need this. I don't need to be reminded of what went on. I don't need pitiful eyes and sorrowful glances when they watch me sitting at the back of the class reading.
I'm not reading, I'm just thinking. Think about it, I made it somewhere yet all I can think about is how your departure got me here. Is it really worth it? No, it's not, but I lie to your friends, to my friends and to myself that it is worth everything. Questions, they all ask questions about you, and then answer them for everyone's sake, tell them the truth. They're questioning why I went to school on Sunday, crying, tell them it was you. Tell them we got back to our 'relationship' only for me to have to end it again. Tell them that you were everything I required. Tell them the warrior needs backup right now or it's the end.
What I hate the most is how you got me to have a purpose. Every time I want to give up, depart or die, I think of you. Why? Every time I get hurt and thrown down I think of you. You believed in me, so, I use that. And they're right, it's pathetic, this all is. But, me, I am not pathetic, I just lost it for a while. I mean tell me this, have you ever encountered someone who breaks up and uses that heartache to strive in her life. Have you seen it? I am some sort of warrior.
No, no, I'm not done.
Now imagine this:
The girl that got forgotten by her boyfriend, when she's alone someone walks up to her asking how she's doing when the truth is they don't care. They don't care about her at all. About me. They care about what to tell their friends and what to tell you. They care about you, not me. I don't matter to them, only the fact that I mattered to you is important to them. Let's go back to imagining ok? So, the girl is in peace, but this piece of shit has to bring you up, as if what, I will smile and say every detail of what went on. I won't because that's our story I'm not telling anyone all the details.
I wish I could hate you.The warrior hates you, but I don't. Why wouldn't the warrior hate you? You started this war, didn't you? Look at what you started, this girl can't look at something and not be reminded of you. This girl can't smile without being reminded of you. And this girl can't live without being with you. This girl was someone you loved, she was everything at one point. She had a smile that was most beautiful to you. This girl is me. The warrior is me.
This warrior nearly wrote a thousand words for you because she hates you, she hates you because she knows she can't stop loving you even with her detestation.
YOU ARE READING
He's gone
Poetry[Completed] Someone leaves you, all the good memories play over and over in your head till it's too much. Every emotion you feel gets too much. Like you want to scream them out and I just wrote them down.
