You don’t know,
I doubt I knew.
I don’t care,
I doubt you do.
I doubted you.
A blessing it was,
Without caring,
Without pledging,
Without words,
Without a heart.
And so it was,
Quite believable,
Your lies.
My lovely,
Delectable,
Unusual.

Your beautiful.

Love your Distance.
End my doubts.
I prefer not caring,
You stole my heart.
A lie of beautiful,
I don’t know.
I gave up on you.
I care

No more.

I give no damn.

Over.

I don’t think I exist in your world
&
You can’t understand what you do to me.
I can’t think.
I can’t speak.
I can’t hear.
& If I could,
I’d think of you, I’d speak three words,
& unfortunately,
I won’t be able to hear your voice.
Forget it.
Forget you.
It was never anything.
Don’t worry..
It will go away, give me a few days,
A month and a year.

….

Do you know what’s beautiful,
My realization, a distance.
I’m no longer blindfolded,
I can see.
I see right through you.
Sad yet true,
You were never really special.
And it’s sad that it took me this long,
To realize.
I see now.
I actually rather not.
Give them back.
I want the blindfolds back.
I need them.
I don’t wish to see.
Or Feel.

Do you know what’s beautiful,
My realization, the closer I get
the more steps you take
back,
until your distant.
You let go.
You never had a grip.
I pushed you.
Away.
Stay distant.
I’m letting you go…
So go.
I dont care.
I really don’t.
but i actually do.

Sad
But
Very
Beautiful.

So beautiful,
You know
My realization,
My truth,
It was never beautiful.

Così bella

If I let you in, you’ll discover the truth.

What then?

A mild disappointment,

my Exaggeration of lust.

Insist.Crush.Forget.

un-Remarkable love.

It’s been too long. Long enough for you to forget to miss me. I bundle my words now, kept them in storage rather than publishing. Your busy with life. Exclude me.  You know, I think I’ve grown old. Too old to care, give a damn. Barely eighteen. Do you know, that I am selfishly enjoying my leisurely walks, on fine moss grass, as the soft breeze gently soothes my insides. Here I am, the wind is chilly. The clouds are mesmerizing, justly beautiful. I’m cold now. Slowly, I’m getting used to this life. Responsibility, individuality, miles away from you.

You do seem alright for now – I guess – if you placed me to judge this situation. Seriously, truly, with all the dignity I can muster for you. I believe you can move on. You ask too many questions! How? It’s impossible!!? Why I never gave in? How I continued to live?!

Well muse, all you do is build a barrier. With the strongest of metals, the thickest steel. You build it with your heart (not hands). With this barrier so hard, cold and crude, you learn to fend for yourself. But it’s all useless if you don’t master the art of forgetting the lest desirable, the sad devastations, that heart breaking moment – then you can carry on. It will fail, going to the gutters if you pledge or show emotion. It will only be used against you. You’d be once again, the worm set as bait. Relinquish emotions, don’t shed a tear…It would only worsen your situation.

With this advice, maybe you too can live for the better. But don’t think that…within the circumstances that come your way, that my words, how I survived will be pronunced the cure. It truly is just a treatment. You can never really run from all this. Your wish to start anew, without a hindrance, or a scratch. No,…it…can’t be made possible.

Now smile, because it does get better. I stand before you, as living proof. Maybe it may take years for the hurt to lessen, and you’ll be one of the lucky ones if it all disappears. If not, then you learn to adapt. So stop with the questions! Stop whining! Whats happened has happened. – sigh- Just forget about all the discouraging words. Mature. Don’t concede. If surrending is what you chose, than I can sadly state this.

‘Your story will be in the volumes, on my book shelf. Precisely, the volume labelled pathetic end.’

A white heart I turned black.

Your red eyes insisted for a cigarette. So you reached for one from the pack and sandwiched it between your thinning lips. Taking a match you repeadtedly lined it to the matchbox searching for a flame. At last, it surfaced. With trembling hands, you lit the cigarette. Gradually the scent of used tobacco encompassed you. The smoke you exhaled parted those thoughts keeping you wide awake. Hastily, the spent ashes colored your stained shirt and the cigarette sordidly shortened. So you put it out, on the nightstand.

In need of another cigarette, you found none, but matches you held plenty. So you lit match by match, enhaling the faint smell of smoke, and with a sad smile, you blew them out.

Your sleepless night., if only…