Thursday 7 April 2016

Letters for you

I scattered the letters for you,
But blinded you chose not to see,
And I bled for every word I wrote,
Yet you stepped over them,
Over me,
My voice stayed choked,
My mind remained blank,
I wanted you to know,
But I just couldn't say,
Screaming,
Screaming,
But only inside,
You looked at me,
And yet you smiled,
At that moment my heart died.

~Rei Shiori


It still hurts

Some nights, I want to break down and tell you

"I've had enough of this"

Even through it all, despite your assurances from the times before when I've been in tears that I matter, I still find that I can't seem to see that it's true.
It takes so much more effort to think that I even exist as a treasured person to you.
If I'm so loved, why do I sometimes feel like I'm a filler for everything else in your life?
It's as if life is too full of things to see and then there's me. Just another thing to check off on your to-do list.

I want to know what I am to you, before I forget and think I'm what they all told me I was. Before I remember that I'm someone to make them happy. Them. Not me. Never me.

For once, I want to feel like I'm the only one in the world for you. Yes, I'm a selfish girl. I shouldn't be anymore now I'm an adult. But pain comes so often I drown in it and I revert back to the un-selfless girl who knew only self-preservation because nobody else was going to make sure she was ok. I'm not ok. But you don't care.

For all the times you said someone else was so pretty, it made me sink an inch deeper into the self-doubt I've carried for years. You know. You should anyway. And yet you say it. Months down the road and I still remember every instance in which you tell me "We went there to look at the pretty girls" or "She was a really pretty girl and she was sitting there next to me" or even just "Wow, she's really pretty". It sounds so shallow when I say I get jealous. I know I said I don't but the truth is it kills me again and again. You just don't know. Or you don't care. And it still hurts.

The pain never goes away and you only make it worse. It still hurts.