the tears drown me in misery
as the tears f a l l fast, i can't stop thinking of you and the things you said we would do. i remember you said that after high school, we would take a car, take a camera, and then take each other to the middle of anywhere. you said that we wouldn't need a map and it didn't matter where we were going as long as we're still friends. but look at us now... what are we? we d r i f t e d a p a r t and i know that i was put into the back of your mind. you're lingering from the front to the back of mine because i don't know where to put you. the back would be too far because i don't think i'm quite that ready to forget about you (even though i'm trying so hard). you were in the front of my mind for some time because every time the blade met skin or tears touched cheeks, you were there and i was focused on you. your voice would run through my head, repeating the lies and the promises (i never thought you would break). i feel as if you have chewed on me just enough to spit me back out (how did i taste? i hope that i tasted of tears, blood, and vomit just enough to make you sick and want to say that you are sorry). i never thought you would leave me like this – scars on wrists, bones protruding from skin and a(n) (invisible) trail almost dented into my skin from the tears i've cried. i don't want every fucking thought to lead back to you and everything you said we would do. perhaps you planned my torment as time flew by. maybe you knew before i did what would happen to me but i don't think you really could see the scars upon my wrists (because you did nothing to stop me). maybe i'm trying too hard just to get you to care when i know it will never happen. but what will you do when (and if) you see me again? would you hide your face in humiliation (guilt & regret along with the things that i've felt before)? truthfully, i don't think i would need to hide my face because i've said (almost) everything i've needed to say and i'm just waiting for you. speak your mind because i promise it won't hurt (as much as you've hurt me) and i can handle it. but don't be surprised if you see tears f a l l from my eyes because it will be a release (a weight lifted from my shoulders). i felt as if i depended on every word you said to me when we began to f a l l a p a r t. i told myself that it would be okay if you didn't say anything but in truth, it ate at my insides until i couldn't take anymore so i had to let the blood spill out somewhere and it just happened to be from my wrists. i tried so hard to keep myself from adding scars but then i would see your face and hear your voice and then i knew who i was doing this for. through gritted teeth and a bitten tongue, i let the blood d r i p from my wrists and picked the scabs when they formed. and i used to never dig deep enough to leave scars that lasted more than two (2) weeks but take a look now. see that one? i made it almost four (4) months ago. and can you still see the outline of the star that i drew (and traced over and over)? in the midst of the red, purple, and pink marked in my skin, can you find your initials (that i took time to carve to make sure that they were perfect)? i know that i'm wanting too much from you but i think i'm used to it because it's just like before except this time, it's not a lie or a promise because you don't see (or care, take your pick) how much i hurt and/or all that i am (still) doing for (because of) you. i want to hear everything from you – i want to know the truth: what was (am) i to you? did i mean anything? maybe i never looked to you for comfort but you didn't see that i was just too afraid and maybe i should have done more. maybe just maybe. what else can i do? surely, you don't want me to take a gun to my head because then you would never be able to speak your apologies even though you should be the first one to d r o p to your knees and say that you're sorry (but i'd be dead so why would it matter?). wipe off your blood-stained hands and think of everything i am doing for you (i know you know a thing or two). i'm willing to do this all for you even though you have done nothing for me...
January 3, 2006
yeah, so i couldn't stop crying when i wrote this one... i don't care much for the ending and i wrote the first half in a rush with shaking hands and tears that wouldn't stop. i just don't see what i'm doing wrong (if i'm doing anything wrong at all).