22. Once Upon A Time
Once upon a time, you loved me.
We were a living fairytale, perfect in every way, flawless, like a crystal vase.
Except for the spider web of cracks...
First, you stopped meeting my eyes.
Second, you stopped holding my hand.
Third, you stopped holding me close.
Fourth, you stopped kissing me gently.
Fifth, you stopped saying 'I love you'.
But you used to love me.
Once upon a time.
9. Hide-and-Seek
Every day we play hide-and-seek, trying to hold on to childish innocence.
You always hide. I always seek.
You're too good at hiding. I never find you until it's too late.
By then, you've already moved onto another game.
A game I don't want to play anymore.
I'm tired of your games. You always change the rules.
You never let me win.
I'm going to hide now.
Will you seek?
23. Black Roses
Summer is over.
Winter is coming.
The rose of our love has shriveled and blackened.
Pink roses stand for friendship.
Our love began with friendship.
White roses stand for purity.
Our love was pure.
Red roses stand for true love.
I thought our love was true.
What does a black rose stand for?
4. Angels and Devils
I thought you were an angel when we first met.
There seemed to be an aura of light around you.
Your smile was heart-stopping.
You enfolded me with wings of pure white love.
I felt safe, secure, loved.
I look at you now.
Your wings are black as night.
The blood drips off them.
There is darkness around you.
Your smile is cruel.
I feel frightened, vulnerable, numb.
It was all a disguise.
1 Broken
I look up at you. Broken.
There is something in your eyes.
What is it?
Is it light?
I can't move. It hurts too much.
The pain is there.
Constant and unwavering.
In my heart.
The pain in my heart is unbearable.
It hurts worse than my body.
A thousand times worse.
A single tear makes its way down my bruised cheek.
A single beat beats in my bruised heart.
Why?
Why did you break me?
31. Cold
I wake up, and the world is white.
Pure white.
It's so cold here.
The snowflakes fall thickly, obscuring my vision.
The wind is bitingly howls mercilessly.
Frost is making delicate patterns on my skin.
Icicles are hanging from my eyelashes.
Everything is white.
So why is there red?
Where is the red coming from in this perfect world of white?
It's spoiling the cruel beauty.
Like you. Cruel...and beautiful.
Why am I kneeling in a pool of red?
I'm becoming numb.
But it's still so cold.
27. Line between Love and Hate
The line between Love and Hate is a fine one.
Do you love that you need me?
Do you hate that you love me?
Do you need to love me?
Do you need to hate me?
Do you need me to love you?
Do you need me to hate you?
Do you hate that I love you?
Are you dying for me?
Or are you dying to get away from me?
18. Photograph
I look at your photograph. You're smiling in it, your beautiful, heart-melting smile.
It melted my heart, that's for sure.
I touch the glass that covers the picture.
It's smooth and transparent and cold.
Rather like you, I suppose.
The glass is a lot like you, now that I think about it.
Smooth-your mannerisms were smooth. You appeared to be perfect.
Transparent-the lies you told me were transparent. I'm such an idiot to have believed them.
Cold-you were cold to me, in the end. Or were you cold the whole time?
I put down your picture.
It hurts to look at it.
32. Black
I wake up.
When did I fall asleep?
I don't remember falling asleep.
All I remember is red.
The red that drenched my bedroom walls.
Dripping slowly down.
Mesmerizing.
Shadows danced on the ruby-colored walls.
The shadows once bothered me.
Not anymore.
Now their dance is hypnotizing.
The walls are red again.
The shadows are dancing again.
Mesmerizing.
Hypnotizing.
I'm falling.
Asleep.
Asleep in the red and the black.
25. To touch the Devil is to die
You walked by me.
And I blushed.
You looked at me.
And my heart began hammering.
You spoke to me.
And I hyperventilated.
You touched me.
And I swooned.
You kissed me.
And I died.
14. Kiss
My first kiss.
It was with you.
You came towards me slowly.
The next thing I knew, your mouth was on mine.
I was startled.
But it was you, so I relaxed.
My second kiss.
It was with you.
If it's possible, it was better than the first.
Sweeter.
All the other kisses.
They were all with you.
And they were all beautiful.
Wonderful.
After each one, you would tell me that you loved me.
My last kiss.
It was with you.
Bitter-sweet.
Burning.
Horrible.
But only because it ended.
Like us.
7. Interest
I caught your eye.
Was I an object of interest for you?
More than that, was I an object to you?
You treated me like one.
Like an object.
You talked.
I sat silently.
Like an object.
Perhaps it started with interest.
But you got tired of me.
And I became an object.
And you moved on to another object.
And I cried for you, one last time.
11. Books
Books.
Library books.
Taken, kept for a while, then returned.
And if you keep them for too long, you pay a heavy price.
That's what you remind me of.
Library books.
Because you were never really mine.
I found you, and I was happy.
I told myself that I would never let you go.
But I did.
You left, and you never looked back.
Because you're like a library book.
Never really mine.
21. Lost Memories
So many memories, like brightly colored jewels hiding in my mind.
Bright jewels, like your eyes.
You, so perfect, so glorious, so fleeting.
Me, so uncertain, so unsure, so afraid.
Us, so amazingly, heart-stoppingly perfect and beautiful together.
The jewels slowly turn to dull rocks and slate and coal.
You, so cold, so frail, so distant.
Me, so worried, so ashamed, so unhappy.
Us, slowly falling into the abyss.
Me, slowly falling from the sky.
You, slowly sailing away.
Us, separated forever.
God, I want to forget.
But I can't, I simply can't.
Because these memories are the only things that prove that you existed.
13. Physics
I used to be healthy and whole.
Now I lie weak and sickly.
It's all because of you.
You've poisoned me.
Why did you do this to me?
What were your motives?
To prevent me from finding you again?
Or-were you just tired-of-me?
It doesn't matter.
I'm too ill to do, to think, anything.
Because of you and your sickly sweet poison, disguised as medicine.
It doesn't matter.
Without you, I might as well be dead.
So perhaps I'm thankful for your poison.
10. Messenger
You left.
You didn't say goodbye.
You just left.
Everyday, I expected-I don't know-something. Some kind of message from you, saying that you loved me, missed me, were sorry,-anything would have been fine.
As the months dragged by, lonely without you, I began to lose hope.
After a year, I think I got the message.
Your silence spoke volumes.
You didn't love me.
You didn't miss me.
And you weren't sorry for leaving and, in the process, breaking the fragil heart hidden behind my strong exterior.
We used to belong to each other.
Now I belong only to myself.
And it's so horrible I could cry.
2 Toys
You always did love to play.
You would play word games, number games, puzzle games.
Mind games.
You always did love to play with my mind.
You liked to play with people too.
You did that to me.
Played with me like I was a toy, then put me away like I was a toy.
And the sad thing about toys is that often, they get broken.
And I'm pretty sure some glue and paint isn't going to fix me.
Because once a toy is broken, it's no longer wanted, no longer needed, no longer loved.
Just.
Like.
Me.
Because you always did love to play.
8. Newspapers
Every day.
Every single day I scour the newspapers, searching for something, some clue that will tell me about you.
Anything, even just a shred of information, would help me.
Every day is the same.
Nothing.
I can't find you at all.
You're nowhere.
Yet everywhere.
How can you be nowhere and everywhere at the same time?
How?
How can you be everywhere when I can't find you?
Until the day when I was reading the newspaper.
And I found your obituary.
One cold, stark paragraph to describe an amazing person. Dry and emotionless words dance in front of my disbelieving eyes.
I missed the funeral.
You're gone.
You're really nowhere now.
So how are you still everywhere?
As I cry away the pain, salt water droplets cover your picture in the newspaper.
19. Cry
Crying is the only thing I can do.
It's the only thing that eases the pain.
I can't speak about it.
I can't, because it hurts too much to talk.
The only way I can express my emotions is through the torrents of salty tears, through the sobs that wrack my body, through the wordless screams that no one hears.
No one hears.
No one knows.
No one cares.
Why would they? I appear strong, calm, indifferent.
God, if they just knew.
If they knew that the seemingly unshakeable me cries every night, sobs and screams mingling in my throat and choking me until I collapse, silent tears snaking down my cheeks, moans leaving my trembling lips.
If they only knew.
But I can't tell them about it.
All I can do is cry.
12. Chemistry
Ours hands brushed, and I felt a shock.
It went from my hand, up my arm, and directly to my heart, which began hammering.
I was so confused.
What had just happened?
Was I the only one who felt that shock?
Or was your heart beating as fast as mine?
You didn't look flustered.
But then you never do.
Nothing could spoil the mask of indifference and perfection that you always wear.
Nothing.
I just wish that you had felt it too.
Because then I'd have a chance.
Maybe it was destiny.
Or maybe it was just a static shock.
5. True Love
True Love.
Tell me, does such a thing really exist?
Or is it merely a myth, a story designed to give false hope to human beings as they attempt to survive, and, if they're extremely lucky, to find happiness, in a cold, cruel, and uncaring world that is devoid of compassion?
Do you believe in True Love?
Do you belong to the group of dreamers who are convinced that they will find a person whom they know they will love for eternity?
Eternity is such a long time.
Or do you belong to the same cynical group that I do, the group that believes that no one can ever truly be happy, that people will always betray you, that nothing anyone does matters, that the world is falling to ruin, and that True Love is an entertaining, enthralling, beautiful, yet bitter, fairytale?
Or do you not have an opinion, and are simply trying to make it through the day?
True Love.
It means being with someone forever, knowing that nothing will ever separate you.
I truly do not think it exists.
Everyone I know leaves me behind.
Because of that, I leave everyone I know behind.
And it makes me wonder-what hurts more, being left behind or leaving things behind?
Because they both hurt so, so much.
20. War
Every day was a battle.
A war of emotions.
A war of words.
We fought all the time.
And yet, it made me happy.
Because yes, we fought, but we always forgave each other after.
No matter what we said, we always loved each other.
Now, though, now you're gone.
I find myself missing our petty battles, fought with words instead of weapons.
I miss you.
I miss me.
I miss everything we were together.
I would give anything to speak to you again, even just for an hour or two.
Even if all we did during that time was fight.
I wouldn't care.
At least I'd be with you.
33. Kill
You left.
You might as well have stabbed me with a love-covered dagger.
You might as well have poisoned me with bittersweet lies.
You might as well have strangled me with strings of pretty words.
You might as well have drowned me in a sea of the tears I wept.
You might as well have buried me in a hole dug by emotion.
You might as well have taken my heart, which I had given to you freely, and slowly cut it into small pieces.
You might as well have killed me.
Without you, I might as well be dead.
24. Blush
A blush paints my cheeks and throat, staining the skin a bright crimson.
I always do this around you.
It's because you're too wonderful, too impossible.
And I'm...not.
If anything, I'm too plain, too unextraordinary.
I feel so...overshadowed.
So...inadequate.
You smile and my blush, if possible, deepens.
It's because of you that I blush.
Because of you and your horrible, beautiful impossibility.
6. Curiosity
You made me curious the first time I saw you.
Who were you?
Why were you?
How could anyone be so perfect?
So mysterious?
So enigmatic?
And later, when we confessed our feelings, I was curious again.
How could you love me?
How could you need me?
How could anyone be so caring?
So gentle?
So sincere?
And when you left, without a word, I was curious again.
Why did you leave?
Was it because of me?
How could you leave me like that?
So heartbroken?
So crushed?
And two years later, I'm still curious.
How are you?
Where are you?
How would things be if we were still together?
Blissful?
Dreadful?
I'm very curious.
34. Teddy Bear
I cling to your last gift, a teddy bear.
I now know why exactly you bought me such a present.
It's because you would have to leave soon, and the only thing left for me to embrace would be the teddy bear.
Perhaps the bear is a symbol of you.
Because when I embrace it, I can close my eyes, and I can pretend, for a small while, that I am holding you again.
But eyes must be opened, and dreams must be shattered, and reality must loom, cold and heavy and suffocating, over me once more.
Because it is not you.
It is only a memento, a souvenir from better times.
I cling to that teddy bear.
26. Under your skin
What is this place, this surreal reality?
This place where things are real, and yet not?
Because this cannot be real.
Because you are here.
Of course it can't be real if you're here.
This place, where is it?
It is Light, yet Dark.
The Light blinds me, and the Dark threatens to consume me.
It is Cold, yet Warm.
The Cold gnaws at me with freezing fangs, and the Warm scorches my skin.
It is Loud, yet Silent.
The Loud deafens me, and the Silent is driving me towards insanity.
It is Dream, yet it is Nightmare.
The Dream shows me you, happy and here and loving, the Nightmare shows you here and happy and loving, which proves that all and everything is not real.
It is Illusion.
It is False.
It is Trickery.
It is Lie.
It is Unreal.
It is...Indescribable.
30. Angst
I can see you.
I can always see you.
I can see you with that person.
I suppose that it's no surprise that you've moved on. You had every right to.
I hurt you. I broke you. I left you.
Alone and bleeding.
Is it any wonder that you turned to someone else to heal your heart?
And yet, to see you, to see you laughing, with that person, it cuts me.
So deeply.
Blood gushes from the open wounds as I lie in a heap on the dark floor.
I should never have left you.
But it was for you.
I had to.
I was hurting you too much.
And it was killing me.
But now this, even though it's what I wanted, is killing me as well.
So I suppose I'm damned either way.
29. Fire
I am consumed.
Engulfed by the flames.
It hurts, oh Lord, it hurts.
I can feel myself dissolving in the heat of the fire.
I can feel my heart turning to ashes.
The ashes will scatter on the wind.
And I will be no more.
Just like your love for me.
Bright, burning, then dim and cold.
My love for you, however, will last far longer than this fire.
My love for you will live yet in the embers, in the coals.
The ashes will brush your ivory cheeks, and perhaps you will remember me.
Me, and the love we had, a least for a little while.
Or perhaps you'll brush the ash away like you do a small, annoying insect.
And continue what you were doing.
Or perhaps you'll feel regret.
Or perhaps...perhaps the ash will ignite a spark of the flame lying near-cold in your heart, and a fire will begin, and burn high and long and scorching, devouring YOU this time.
3. Cell Phone
Ring-ring-ring-ring-ring-ring-ring!!
Damn ringtone. I should get a different one.
I glance at the Caller Id.
It's you.
What?
I can't answer fast enough.
"Hello?" My voice is dry and raspy from disuse.
"Hello." Your voice is smooth as silk, as always.
God, just hearing your voice has sewn shut a small part of the huge gash in my heart.
I can't speak.
"Hello?" you ask.
"I'm still here." I reply. I've always been here, waiting for you.
"Good." There is a note of amusement in your voice. I wish I could see you and your famous half-smile.
"Why did you call?" I demand. It's hard to keep the bitterness and hurt out of my tone.
"Just checking to see if you were alright." you answer smoothly and quickly.
Alright? Like hell I'm alright. "Why?" I ask. "Why do you care?"
"I've always cared." you say.
Uh huh. Sure. You care about me so much that you left without so much as a goodbye.
"I'm fine." I practically spit the words out; the lie tastes like poison, sickly sweet with a bitter edge.
"Good." You sound relieved.
I'm surprised that you believed my lie. You used to know me so much better.
"Is that all you had to say?" I demand harshly.
"Yes." Your voice sounds small.
"If that's all, bye." I spit. "Unlike you, I have the decency to say goodbye."
"But-" you protest.
"Don't wanna hear it." I growl, tears stinging my eyes. "Have a nice life."
I hang up.
The tears are beginning to fall, the salty liquid burning the scratches on my cheeks.
Oh well.
Toughen up.
Ring-ring-ring-ring-ring-ring-ring!!
I roll over, covering my head with a pillow. It barely lessens the noise.
Ring-ring-ring-ring-ring-ring-ring!!
Maybe I'll answer.
Maybe I won't.
And the phone keeps ringing.
Ring-ring-ring-ring-ring-ring-ring-ring-ring!!
((All of these angsty things were written by me.))