The Measure of What You Can Live With

by, Cassandra

"Ignore the pain. If you don't acknowledge it, it doesn't exist." (what a lie that is.) But how long can you ignore what cuts so deep before you bleed to death in front of blinded eyes?

I've ignored every word. I've ignored every hurt. I've ignore, and I've rolled with every hit. But what happens if I don't duck fast enough? What would you do if I said I don't want to pretend that I'm not broken, shattered, crushed? So close to being irreparable. You don't seem to understand that I'm irreplaceable, too.

Once I'm gone… you'll never get me back.
Once I'm dead… you'll never find another me.
I am irreplaceable… you'll see.

So, tell me to ignore the pain, the hurt, the scars.
Every word, every deed, every unheard cry.
Every tear, every fear, every time I tried…
and every time I failed.

The pain can be ignored, but forgetting is another matter entirely… and I've never forgotten. (it's engrained into my brain… everlasting.) It's too late to erase these misplaced strokes and start again. It's too late to make me whole again.

I'll ignore, for now.
But, I won't forget.
And I doubt I'll ever forgive.

(can you live with that?)