i hardly ever write about you anymore,
its been a year and a half
and my words run dry.

at your fathers funeral,
i wanted to be by your side,
always thought that was how it would be,
i wanted to hold your hand
and let you grieve,
i wanted to be the rock
you always seemed to be for me.

i was replaced,
and stood afar,
and outcast from a family
i once called my own.

are you happy now?
i have so little emotion for you these days,
and that hurts more than i can say.
you are a text message that never gets answered,
lost in the silent airwaves
that always was us anyway.

that crumpled up useless human being you love now,
i hope he fulfills you,
but i know he does not.
he stood outside as you stood at your fathers casket,
making the whole thing
a token to his outsider status,
a martyr to your life-style,
and i will never hate him more
for making you leave your mothers side
to make sure he was alright.
this chip on his shoulder,
how undeserving he is.

i thought, at least, that my love for you,
and the person that i tried to be
would cover the gap between my failings,
i swear on your fathers grave,
a man who was more my father than my own,
that i love you still.

you always wanted to be accepted,
you craved it so much that you dragged me along with you,
threw my life around like a rag-doll,
and left me stranded,
but i do still love you, and i do accept you, and always did.

my husband-who-was,
you do deserve more than what you have now.
i wish i could tell this to you,
and make you see that he is not right for you.
he will never be who you need.
stop finding the fixer-uppers.
fix yourself, and find happiness.

i do not cry for you, most days.
most days, i pity you.
most days, i just want to hear from you,
to know you're fine.
cant you see that the control he has on you now,
that kept you from your promises to me in the aftermath and ashes,
is no different than the control i had on you
with my sickness and need.
you havent moved forward,
you just traded in.
you traded for less, because he had a different way,
he is only a pseudo-substitute
for what you want.

my dearest, probably life-long love,
i give you the gift of release,
and i give you this last word of advice,
(i always was giving you advice you would not take)
love yourself, and true love will come with it.
lose the monster who bites at your feet and sleeps in your bed,
lose the monster that has eaten your heart
before you even met me.
there is no need for the sawdust that you eat,
the sackcloth and ashes,
there is nothing wrong with you, quit hating.

find someone who will grieve with you,
who will stand beside you,
who will hold you up and make you better,
make you the person you always were beneath
the walls you built,
the man who maybe loved me at one point,
or maybe never did.

i forgive you for your lovelessness.
forgive yourself.
build your life, change your mind,
find the light,
and maybe i can find it too.
my heart aches for you.

i do not want you back.
i want to see you grow. i want to know you look forward to life.
i want your life to be filled with love,
i want to hear your music again, as your friend.
i miss your heart.

love always, even if you dont,
v.

09/21/2010

Posted on 09/21/2010
Copyright © 2024 Vikki Owens