I bet you're proud of yourself,
For putting me down.
Do you feel good?
Do you smile, later on, to yourself that you made me lose myself for a minute?
I guess you don't realize that
The minutes count up.
Now, no matter what I do,
I will be thinking of you.
You dismissed it once it happened but
I will never forget.
You are engraved in my mind.
I want nothing to do with you.
I curse your name.
I despise you.
But I can't let it go
Because the minutes count up.
You smile.
You laugh.
You sing.
You dance.
You play.
I frown.
I cry.
I groan.
I writhe.
I pray.
Every minute of every day,
And the minutes count up.
You are in pain, too.
I can feel it in your glare.
You are hurting,
And that's good, isn't it?
Isn't it?
No. It isn't good. Why do I feel this way?
Because I know,
The minutes count up.
Whatever I did,
I'm sorry.
I know I did nothing, but
I'm sorry.
I wanted you to hurt,
I wanted you cursed,
I wanted you gone, and
I'm sorry.
I know how that feels, but don't you worry,
The minutes count up.
The days will get better,
The sun will get brighter,
Your heart will get bigger,
And the minutes count up.
We will get out of here.
We will survive.
We won't look back -
But I will remember you.
The scar you left on me won't heal, my smile will eventually return, and you will get over me to pick on someone else,
But I will remember you.
Why?
Easy.
Because the minutes count up.
YOU ARE READING
Curiouser and Curiouser... A Collection of Excerpts, Thoughts, and Poems
PoesiaNo one voices all their thoughts... But here are a few of mine. Some things I've written, but never told a soul. They come from a wide range of my time growing up. (I've been writing poetry since I was 5, until now. These are a few things I've writt...
