(NOTE: Pulled from a journal about past events, does NOT reflect the present.)
“Lost”
She is your muse.
She is your sunshine prism.
She is your diamond,
and I am your rock,
solid beneath your feet
carrying you so you may
reach your arms upwards to her.
Everything you do is for her,
your creations, your memes, your art,
so she sees, so she hears, so she knows,
and I am pushed to the edge of your universe,
a nameless star.
How do I do this?
How do I walk this broken-glass path,
shards of everything I thought we were, of everything I thought I was.
How do I do this?
How do I breathe in and out
with lungs made of lead, and air thick with the ashes
of our life that has been burned to the ground?
How do I move these bones rattling in my skin?
What do I do with this heart scraping my ribs,
scratching the flesh of my chest,
carving “THERE IS NO SAFETY HERE!”
There is no solace here.
There is no love here.
There is no her here.
There is no you here.
Just me.
Just me in this fucking empty hall
with no one to hear my knees hit the ground,
with no one to lament my shredded-flesh feet,
with no one to bandage my bleeding soul.
“No Power”
You both tell me I have the power
and I laugh, because what power is this?
To plunge you both into misery?
To switch off the warmth of your suns?
To submerge you into the pain I feel every damned second of every damned day?
The power to make you both resent me? To make you both hate me?
The power to take away “the person you’ve waited for your entire life?”
The power to make it impossible, so you leave me so it can be possible again?
THERE IS NO POWER HERE.
I have no power.
Dear Angels, dear Masters, dear Guardians, Mother Gaia,
how do I do this?
How do I show up tomorrow and the day after that?
How do I live this life where my love has become nothing?
How do I live in this Universe where the love of my life revolves around someone else?
How do I let this girl into my home?
How do I let her gifts sit on our shelves?
How do I speak to her when she rejects my words?
Our years have become a joke.
Waiting for this anniversary to come.
Waiting for what?
Blazing pain?
To watch you and her unable to get enough of each other?
To watch you and her drawn together like magnets?
To find out I am nothing after all?
To hear you say nice words, but see your actions betray you at every turn?
The actions that betray the lies you are living?
“She is just a friend.”
“She is just my muse.”
“She is just my crush.”
Yes, she is JUST the single reason for everything you fucking do and every thought you fucking think and there is NOTHING I can do.
You do not see me.
You do not hear me.
So I just keep walking, and hope I make it through.
