there's more left to say

her throat is dry from (silently) screaming your name and her
heart is done searching for what makes her alive because she
can't find the point in living when the one person whom she does
everything for never took notice and never caught her when she
fell (so close to being six feet under). and it never mattered how
far away she was from you, she wanted to know how much she
hurt you (if ever possible) because for so many nights, she was
awake, bleeding away all memories & thoughts, vomiting out all
the impurities (she felt so dirty under scarred & tainted flesh) but
even now, she still feels broken, back to where everything started.

she could never forget your face. she remembers the way your
head fell back as you laughed, smiling ear to ear, grinning like
it were to be your last day on earth. but she's tired of pushing
memories into the back of her mind, trying so hard to forget the
reasons you and her were (best) friends in the first place. she
begs for her eyes to be stapled shut so she doesn't have to see
you again. she would rather find herself back in the therapist's
office than to feel (again) the way she's felt for so long because
she thought that when she told you, you would answer all the
questions burning inside of her, the ones she still desperately
wants (/needs) answers to because she stills chokes back the
bile caught in her throat, forcing it back because she doesn't
want to be this way anymore (although her newly made scars
tell such a different story). she would tie her hands behind her
back just so the blade would never touch skin again (but she's
not over this yet. can't you see? but then again, you couldn't
because you barely took notice the first time scars appeared).

her lips are cracked and bloody from the times when she was
completely wrapped in the bleeding (process) that she couldn't
even see her hand in front of her face because her vision was too
much of a blur from the blood dripping down her scarred wrists.
but no matter how many times she could (try to) put into words
the way she feels, she could never explain the (real) reasons
she chose to carve words into her arms (love, hate, freak and
(of course) your name). she thought she could bleed herself
dry but she found out that there's still so much more left.


author's note: i wish i had someone to talk to. only one person knows who i do this for but i feel like i can't even talk to her because she doesn't understand... because she's never been in my situation. i know that sounds so cruel but it hurts so much to see her even when i know i'll see her. i don't want to be the person i was before. i thought i was better... i was so wrong. & this is just another piece, trying to get my feelings out. they're nothing but rants.