The camera flashes and reveals a different side of you. One that you conceal and hide from the world's review. I have seen brief glimpses of the person you can be. When you come out from hiding, you're not all that much a mystery. Like a puzzle refusing to come undone, your ill treatment of my heart will never be outdone. You tormented me like a prisoner in Guantanamo Bay, terrorized me villainously expecting me to stay anyway. Once you released my hand from your cold and icy grip. I had phantom limb syndrome and longed for my removed hip. Now I clearly see that I am worthy and capable, and for far too long I assumed that this cancerous love was inescapable. I gave you my heart, and you bruised it with your malice. Got trapped in your rabbit hole, as if my name were Alice. You are not my queen of hearts, you control me no more. My hope's been pierced with darts, I have become all that I abhor. I stood at the Wailing Wall, praying that you would repent but your cruel and wicked pride guaranteed that you would not relent. My only victory lies in catching sight of the truth in all your lies. The one you often failed to provide and hid away from prying eyes. I lit a fire in my heart and burnt your memory away. Scarred and seared by your touch, our relationship turned into a vile cliché. Ugliness is smeared upon the walls that we had built, I cried and repented until my body began to wilt. I am now reminiscent of flowers that are hidden underneath the snow. What was once aglow plateaued many emotions ago. I stripped my life of remnants of all that would remind me of you; the pictures, poems and letters gone so I can start anew.
Time stood still for nary a soul, it dragged its feet, aching and old. Blistering heat that made us melt, we were once softer than silk felt. Hallowed hearts wind whistled through, covered in bruises, black and blue. Hardly broken, but maybe bent, running on empty and love spent. There comes a day in all our lives, when our failures cut deep as knives. But you shall remain a triumph, you stayed with me, like a science. Words were whispered, curses, we'd shout, until the blood drained from our mouths. Yesterday—softer than silk felt; seems like all we do these days is yell.
Comments