All Which You Took From Me

by DreadAngel

It's been years now. But I still feel the guilt. The regret. The rage. When I see my past, I think of what could have been, how you got into my head. What did I do? How did we get to this point? Questions that may never be answered. All I feel to you...is rage.

I don't feel as if there are words left to describe how I feel as to what we've done.

As I look at this hat in my hand now, with remnants of your blue ink dripping off the sides, I wonder if what happened was the right thing to do.

We had it all, you and I. Friendship, a strong unity, I trusted you. When I saw you there, I saw the potential in you.

So where did it all go wrong?

With the mixture of colours around my feet, I feel as if it reflects my inner desires. Your once pristine white leather jacket now unrecognizable amidst the mess.

I thought you'd all like each other. We'd be stronger together, better as friends after he tried to tear us up from inside, so why? Why did you have to be worse? Why did you find him? Why did you trust him?

Even now, as I stare at the setting sun, I find myself wondering I even did the right thing doing what I did. I wonder if my perseverance was a trait I should have let die with the me that died all those years ago.

And yet still you stand before me, smiling, mocking me all for what I did. You took away what made me happy. You took away my spark. And yet, after it all, you've convinced me I was the bad guy in it all. That dark pit of history behind me, was it worth it?

The blood runs down my arm like a fire through a forest, my head burns as I think of you. Of what you did.

Even with the people I have now, I fear that history will repeat itself. I'll lose it all again to a betrayer.

Staring down the orange oval, I sit at the edge of the cliff, the blue sea glistening in the distant star's light. Was all this necessary? I look back and see my mistakes, all my guilt, but I also see nothing but fury in my wake after it all went wrong. This could have been better. We could have been better.

And your name. Whenever I even see it I feel all the anger hit me at once. The only thing I wanted was to help you, but you kicked me down and spat on my good will.

And when I see when we were friends, when all of us were friends, all I see is what could have been.

And as the sun vanishes over the distant horizon and the darkness overtake, I take one more look at your bloodstained, torn hat and wonder…

What have I done?