I looked at a picture of you today. Smiling, happy.
More in love than I'd ever seen you.
I'd never been lucky enough to be the reason for that brightness in the eyes that I'd so inexorably fallen for. I'd never seen a love and elation so powerful in those eyes, that it made the one looking at it want to delight in the joy of your happiness.
But those pictures could never make me smile. Truth be told, it did just the opposite. It broke me. It tore me up within, with the knowledge that I wasn't The One. The reason that that ecstasy in your life existed. The source of your pleasure and contentment. I died slowly, every time I looked at a picture...
a fresh cut...
a bloody and bruising reminder of the life you now had...
It would not let me forget.
It wasn't me, it never would be, it never could be.
I looked at a picture of you today. Smiling, happy.
And I waited. Waited for the grief to come and sweep me up in a blinding daze of tears and sadness. I waited for that hatred that my heart had gotten so used to, to overwhelm me. I waited for the pain of losing you, the pain that ran like a drug mixed with my blood, coursing through my veins, to engulf me. I was addicted to the hurt and the misery, and therefore I waited.
And waited.
And waited.
But nothing, no kind of sorrow was harnessed.
All that showed was a smile echoing acceptance.
And a new found forgiveness.
I looked at a picture of you today. Smiling, happy.
And for the first time, I smiled too.
My heart didn't stop.
The pain didn't come, my blood and body to claim.
I looked at a picture of you today. Smiling, happy.
And not a single trace of the emotions you once evoked in me, the ones that consumed me,
remains.
More in love than I'd ever seen you.
I'd never been lucky enough to be the reason for that brightness in the eyes that I'd so inexorably fallen for. I'd never seen a love and elation so powerful in those eyes, that it made the one looking at it want to delight in the joy of your happiness.
But those pictures could never make me smile. Truth be told, it did just the opposite. It broke me. It tore me up within, with the knowledge that I wasn't The One. The reason that that ecstasy in your life existed. The source of your pleasure and contentment. I died slowly, every time I looked at a picture...
a fresh cut...
a bloody and bruising reminder of the life you now had...
It would not let me forget.
It wasn't me, it never would be, it never could be.
I looked at a picture of you today. Smiling, happy.
And I waited. Waited for the grief to come and sweep me up in a blinding daze of tears and sadness. I waited for that hatred that my heart had gotten so used to, to overwhelm me. I waited for the pain of losing you, the pain that ran like a drug mixed with my blood, coursing through my veins, to engulf me. I was addicted to the hurt and the misery, and therefore I waited.
And waited.
And waited.
But nothing, no kind of sorrow was harnessed.
All that showed was a smile echoing acceptance.
And a new found forgiveness.
I looked at a picture of you today. Smiling, happy.
And for the first time, I smiled too.
My heart didn't stop.
The pain didn't come, my blood and body to claim.
I looked at a picture of you today. Smiling, happy.
And not a single trace of the emotions you once evoked in me, the ones that consumed me,
remains.
Two things i liked.
ReplyDeleteFirstly. How every stanza started with a "I looked at a picture of you today". i duno it justs sounds cool tht every stanza started with it.
Secondly. The "And Waited." part. Showing that the grief left so silently that the subject itself didn't know when it left, that it actually expected it to pop. but it didn't. its something that actually happens in reality.
good stuff Renelle!
Thank you so much, Clyde. :)
ReplyDeleteBrilliant piece. Can see alot of raw emotion coming out on paper. I loved it! :)
ReplyDeleteThank youuu Nat! :)
ReplyDelete