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2 359
The ambivert side in me is arbitering the introverted war that desires to be alone but also be touched.
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You've clung to your pain and refused to let it go, and it's clearly destroying you
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And the truth will be as such; one will believe in words and one will forever shout,
Shout their pain and never acknowledge yours.
One will believe in apologies and one will forever sing,
Sing of your betrayal and never the reason behind.
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We're grown ups now aren't we? But the part of you that you killed inorder to grow up was the one that I loved the most.
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Was I the most selfish person on the surface of this earth or did I really think of you as my home?
I promise I saw you as my home, the one I ran to when I was hurt and that was selfish. It was why I ran to you when I bled in silence, when songs failed to serve their purpose but just left me hurting more.
I knew you wouldn't leave me crying, back then at least, so I came to you and of course I wasn't disappointed. Even the knowledge that you were there when I hurt was enough to restore the breath back to my lungs.
I came to you when I was hurt and that was selfish but hey at least I'm good at something right? I'm the most selfish person you can name.
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The ideas, the omens, the excitement of you was too much only for me to handle so I had to share it. I'd speak of you in shrill excitement and when it was time for me to cry I'd say so as well. She knew of the start, the middle of the road but not the end, not where I am now. But she used to be with me when my heart was torn at what you said and that night that sleep decided to forsake me and I lay restless on my bed, she knew about it too. I've never understood the concept of sharing your burdens cause it's just a pointless thing to do, it neither reduces your stress or does the other person any good but there's this wicked feeling of being understood and being loved despite your circumstances that makes me want to bare my heart and I did. And so a peace of will stay with her too.
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What is that consuming notion that you have left so many pieces of yourself in so many people, so many dreams and wishes and so many songs? Is it even possible? It feels real though cause the moment you connect with them it feels like you're speaking with yourself, a version of yourself you know for sure isn't alive now.
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I know how lingering in the past is a terrible thing to do, in theory of course but how I love to race the current that will inevitably crush my bones. Why I love to take a sip of the pain, I will never know but there's a strange feeling I get whenever I reminisce about the number of times I left my heart to the wolves and the number of times I stretched towards the clouds I could never reach.
I love tracing the pages of my old notebooks back to where you were written. I love to reread the genesis of our foolish story, how lovely it was to wallow in ignorance, it was blissful.
Sometimes I am ashamed of calling anyone else in this earth evil for I'm the most evil of all, I'm my worst enemy. I'll drag mt peaceful self back to the altar of "us" just to feel something different as if remembrance is healing, as if the past did anyone any good.
And these tainted songs have I not cast them away? Of course not, I would never, they will just keep on living, I'll keep them alive cause once again I know I'll visit the archives. You won't be there in their hollow halls but your ghost will be there and one thing for sure, your ghost will be kinder to me than you ever were.
