There is a quote out there that says “If you live to be a hundred, I hope to be a hundred minus one day, so I never have to live without you.”  I personally don’t agree with it.  If I was in love, I would want to die at the same time as the one I love, that way neither of us would have to live without the other.

You made me the person that I never wanted to be. I promised myself that I would never let my feelings show through during the day. Yet here I am, almost in tears because the boy I love broke the thing that took me so many years to rebuild, he tore apart my heart. The organ vital for life is gone, destroyed, leaving me desolate.

I promised myself that I would never be the girl to cry, that I would always be strong. But, because of you, my eyes burn with tears that silently forge a path to the ground.

You made me someone that I never wanted to be, and I hate you for that. Yet, my love for you is far from gone. I can forgive and I can forget and if tomorrow you came back to me, I would once again be yours.

But until that time I want you to understand that you didn’t just hurt me, rather, you completely devastated my soul.

*I still love you, as much as it kill me.*

She wakes up every morning knowing full well the mask that she must wear to conceal her true persona, but she knows that, today, no matter how think her mask may be, it is unable to hide the tremble in her voice and the shake in her hands. She desperately tries to hide the misery in her eyes and the stains on her cheek made my the tears that she vowed she would never cry. But there is nothing left on this Earth that can camouflage her, distraught soul. She is used to wearing a mask, but never one this heavy. With every step she takes the pain surges through her body. She needs to shed her protective shield, yet she can’t. This protective shield, this mask, is the last thing that can console her. With that gone all she has are the tears, tears that sting as they make their way down her face, only to fall on the floor unnoticed by the only one that can stop them.

So what do I do with my life now? Do I stay and fix everything? Or do I run from my past, my present? My life has been full of regrets, but this one, by far, surpasses them all.

I loved you, I still do, even though you ripped the last remnants of what was once a heart from my chest. You stand in front of me, taunting me with what was once mine. My blood is dripping from the object that you promised to protect, and yet, here you are, destroying the last part of me that proved I was human. I can’t believe I honestly thought that you were going to be the one to save me. You promised to be the one to put my heart back together, to be different from all those in my past. Yet the pain that you put me through is infinitely worse than any pain ever caused by them.

I was strong before you, and I wish that I could say that I will continue to be strong after you, but I don’t think that is possible now. The strength that was once part of me has dissipated, leaving me wear, vulnerable and helpless. I trusted you to be true to me, yet you broke me. You left me to cry in the dark. I promised myself that I would never taste the bitterness of my own tears again, yet single handedly you pushed my ragged emotions to the edge, and then without knowing the consequences you threw me over. So here I stand, battered and broken asking you to reconsider. If not then I run, if you do, then I stay. I pray that you will, but I know that you won’t. So I’ll run. I’ll run from everything that I once knew, from everything I once cared for, from everything I once loved, but more importantly, from you.

The cool air of the September night caresses her skin, sending shivers down her spine.  She sits alone, wondering aimlessly through the emptiness of her mind.  She is trying to forget, or rather, she is trying to remember.  She is trying to recall the endless pain that she has caused others and the eternal agony she lives through everyday.  Her pain is inflicted by others, a knife though the heart, and yet, she doesn’t die.  She is stronger than that.  she fights not only for her life but also fer sanity.  Alone in the darkness she screams for salvation, but who is there to hear her calls?  The ones that she is fighting to live for are the ones that are prodding her soul with a knife drenched in blood, her blood.  When will she see that struggling is futile?  The ones that she loves the most are the ones continually driving the knife deeper into her flesh and the ones infecting her body with an incurable disease.  And yet, she remains ignorant of the attempted homicide by her so called beloved.  She knows of only the pain caused by the repeated stabbing.  Her mind and emotions are traped in a labrynth, dashing from side to side, attempting to find escape, but there is no comfort now.  She is dying slowly, painfully, from the inside out, and yet she remains oblivious to it all.