A/N: It started out with intentions of being prose. Somewhere along the lines (line three, actually) it became prosetry (prose + poetry). It's intentionally ambiguous.
Important: it won't make any sense whatsoever if you have not read Two Separate Worlds (my other story). This is basically what Platina Berlitz feels during the storyline, told in second person. I hope you enjoy it. I enjoyed writing it :).
Becoming Dynamic
...
..
.
Pitiful girl, with riches that could tempt even the slightest of thieves. You say you never let emotions control you.
How often is never?
...
.
He loves you and he loves you; you don't even know. Circle down that drain.
Falling deeper and deeper, unaware.
Unaware of emotions hidden beneath. The tip of the iceberg is so misleading.
But they know, and you now know.
How could this be? He's gone, but he's still here,
and he's there, and he's everywhere in your heart. X number one.
...
He still loves you, he still loves you, and he never loved you. One, three, and two.
You know, now, that this cannot be. Emotions, that you thought were controlled, overwhelm and consume you.
He leaves, like the man you love, for the ill-fated woman that held his heart. That woman. X number two.
There was one left standing. Harder than rock; stubbornness puts bulls to shame.
...just like his name.
You try to compromise, but it's a lie. It's all a lie.
Again, you try, try, try. Fail miserably.
He's still gone and he's still gone.
And he's still here. But he's not the one. The only one was never to be found.
..
.
..
He exemplified courage, or perhaps childish rebellion? Still, the action could not go unnoticed; admired. He followed his heart.
You were confused. The first one to go is always the hardest blow, but in your case
no one compared. Not to him, at least.
That day, you asked yourself, 'is it really worth it?' You decided not.
Those emotions shot; got the best you. You've lost.
..
… but to what?
He found her. He brought her pitiful self and your pitiful materials to the very place you've grown to hate. You hated her.
You became a bull-tamer; he let you go. Knowing defeat was one of his many golden qualities. X number three.
…
There was that man with the leather guitar case and cheeky grin, careless in the subject of life.
He told you where your heart headed. And you knew, you knew that it was it.
You once were weak, allowing everything to be given to you; the hand-fed, pitiful, heiress of beyond riches. This one instance you overexerted.
He was your many first times.
Days passed. You ran and ran. You saw him beyond the horizons. Heart dropped, mind erased, you found yourself kneeling before him like a peasant, like the very girl you hated.
But you didn't care. He was there, here, and everywhere. The only one that held your heart.
You promised your life in exchange for his.
He agreed. X number one voids.
You pitiful girl. You've become what you feared the most; emotion-based. But somehow, it was okay.
...
As long as he was there to remind you.
A/N: It can get pretty confusing, but if you know the whole story, then it makes perfect sense. She's thinking about three guys (minus the man with the guitar, whom I will not name) throughout the poem, hence, X numbers 1, 2, & 3 and mentions her parents and Blue. I hope I didn't give too much away :(.