It started as slowly and painfully as it ended.
I suppose it was to be expected.
But if I could go back -- I would.
I hate feeling that way.

You don't know what it's like to fall asleep in your arms at night.
You don't know what it's like to have the phone ring at 11:00 at night, just as I'm falling asleep, only to hear your voice tell me that you love me, no matter how little we spoke otherwise.
You don't know what it's like to be wrapped in a sweet, warm embrace with you on the other end.
You don't know what it's like to be in love with you.

And so you'll never understand.
You'll never understand why I hurt so.
You'll never understand any of the pain I'm going through.
I hope someone hurts you as bad as you hurt me.
No I don't.
But it felt good to say that I did.
No matter how mad at you I am, I don't ever want you, or anyone to feel this.
But I want to be selfish and say I don't want anyone to feel what I previously felt with you either.
I just wish that was all mine.
Like you had promised.

If you can break promises,
So can I.

So I wrote this.

I never wrote anything with any real meaning for anyone else but you.
And now
Most everything I've written has lost all meaning, I suppose.
Since there's no point to most anything I've ever written.
But if I could just fall asleep in your arms just one more time.
Maybe things would have more meaning.

Which bump in the road did I lose you at?
Who progressed and who got left behind?

I suppose you let go of my hand and kept walking, leaaving the blindfold over my naive, ignorant eyes
Me thinking you were still standing next to me.
You were really far away.

I got lost.
I haven't moved from that spot.
I've always been taught that if you get lost, stay where you are, and whoever lost you would come back to find you.
(Come find me...)
So I'm just standing here.
In a puddle of my own blood and tears.
Waiting.

Waiting like a fool.
You've made me feel like such a fool.
Such a fool to think that I could be in love and be loved.
A fool...

Our love got lost and left behind.
Well no...
you took mine and crushed it, and took yours and hid it.
Hid it away -- never to be seen again.

Not by me anyways.

11/02/2002

Author's Note: I promised myself I'd never write another poem about you -- that you weren't worth my artistic ability. Sometimes I lie to myself, but I refuse to lie to others. I'm not like you.

Posted on 11/02/2002
Copyright © 2025 Shayla R Cakes