I am sorry.

I am so so sorry.

I chose me.

And it came at the cost of breaking you.

You always loved me.

You wanted me to love you.

I wanted me to love you too.

But something never quite fit.

I never felt the fire.

If I had sacrificed that fire, would you still be here?

Messaging me funny things,

caring about my aching heart?

Or would you have gone regardless?

I chose me, and it broke you.

It broke me too.

Because though I never was in love,

I always loved you.

And when I chose me,

You let me be

a broken, and sorry mess.

I broke you, I broke me.

Because you couldn't see,

my heart couldn't have chosen you.

I was always stuck on him.

Now you've left,

and all I see is misery.

How is this a victory?

Choosing me?

I miss you.

I wish you'd come back to me.

I wish you'd choose me,

without needing more.

I wanted you,

but I chose me.

If life is a game, I think I am losing.

Why can't I remember anything from my childhood?

Is everyone's reality fuzzy like mine?

Or is this my way of coping?

My way of swallowing the things I can't handle remembering?

I don't like it at all.

Someone please come save me.

If I were a poet,

I'd write something

Something that would be worth the read.

Something that invoked emotions.

Sparked passsions.

But I don't have the ability.

I'm a shell, with dreams.

With imagination.

And no faith.

No drive, no belief.

How can I do something like this,

when I don't belive in myself?

No talent, no motivation, no means.

You'll be stuck saying empty words.

Thoughts. Opinions.

Not a poet, director, writers, actor,

or even a producer of art.

Not anything worth anyone's time.

I had a dream.

You were in it, but not with me.

We started together- like we have,

and then you ran away.

Like you always do.

I found our favorite band, and

laughed with children, walking

around the mall.

I text, I call, I get no replies.

This is the life I must accept.

I snapped a picture with TJ,

and you wrote back, "You're one sick

bitch!" I knew you were high.

Walking curving stairs, I saw you,

my nightmare. With girls we do not know.

Your hair is short and green but your eyes...

are bored and red.

You're gone again.

You continue to eat with them

and I eat alone,

hardly able to swallow.

My heart feels like breaking.

I don't think I can handle it aching

anymore. Watching you walk away...

Now you're gone.

I resign myself to the fact that

I will never be enough. Not enough

to make you happy.

I have too many

rules.

I am not the adventure you seek.

I never was.

Now you really are gone.

You tell me what you did-

all your feeling gone from your words.

You're dead inside, and I can feel the emptiness.

You're high, but oh so low, I can't fix

you, never could.

So now you're gone, so I am too.

Because although I couldn't save you,

you took my heart without warning,

sacrificing me to the murky depths of

numbness.

You left me for dead. Now you're gone.

You'll come back with false smiles,

drawing me in with promises of

new beginnings. But I know

the truth.

You're gone. Always have been.

You lead me like a calf to slaughter,

thinking I'll be headed to greener pastures.

Fuck you.

#freeverse #nightmares

Introvert, yes.

But I hate being lonely.

I have long arms,

but they can't wrap my frame

tight enough to mimick another human.

I went to bed last night,

kissing my shoulder,

trying to imitate someone's touch.

It didn't do much.

Introvert, yes.

But I hate being lonely.

I once was brave.

I was strong.

And completely unashamed.

Yet,

Somewhere on this road,

I decided it was easier to hide.

Hide from the people,

hide from the light.

Now I ask myself the question,

"Who the hell am I?"