let me scream

and if you have me a moment to tell you
all that you have done (face-to-face talk,
that's the best), my tears would speak
louder than my words (they say actions
speak louder than words, my dear). i
would (want to) scream everything in
your face and let you know what each
scar on my wrists is for (like your name
i carved into my skin as a reminder – as if
i could forget – of who left me like this).

would you even listen to the (bleeding)
girl who wants to know so much? i
thought you would understand when
i first told you (in those 3 letters) but
i guess i was just trying to still have
faith in what i thought we had left.

yet once again, i let myself believe in the
lies (and everything that comes with it) only
to have them leave scars on my wrists and
more acid memories burned into my memory.

would you believe me when i say that i
still care (about everything we once were,
what we had, and even about you)?

i wish i didn't have the need to bleed.

May 9, 2006


author's note: i really hate this format. i couldn't think of anything better and no matter how much i kept on trying to rearrange it, it all looked like crap anyways. despite that, i hope you enjoyed. (& i really hate the fact that i still care.)