Mind dump #1: to the man I’d never speak to again.
I’m getting Deja Vu from the last time I spoke to you. Which is weird, because were still not speaking and it came at a moment, I finally felt worthy of breathing. Sometimes I have to lie down, close my eyes, and go back to the time when you wanted to be around me. Going back to a time when I was wanted, though very briefly, it’s wrong I know, it’s what my heart needs. To be a woman who has never been loved- is to lose her source of femininity. I wish when you said you wanted me closer - you meant to your heart and not just your chest. I wish the situation would be easy to forget, but I am working on it. Because truth be told you are not the worst thing to have happened to me. Your depression affected me like secondhand smoke. Hurt people hurt people but I’ve been hurt and could never do what you did. Maybe depression hits people differently, I became nicer to others and your demons destroyed you. Though I’ve grown past you I still see you when I sleep, and I still wrote about you in my poetry.
“Light blue cars haunt my streets.
I hope my light blue eyes haunt your dreams.
Turns your careless thoughts into nightmares.
The terrors of the person you grew to be.
The terrors of the person you were to me.”
The most tragic part of it all is You’ll never pay the price for the crimes you committed against me. There's no autopsy on a lifeless body that still breathes. Discovering your mountains flooded my seas and I am only as strong as the monuments around me. If I had the chance to speak to you again, I don’t think I would take it. There's nothing left to say. We act like we never met and one day I won’t remember we did but, it’ll be something you’ll always have to live with. You’re lucky I’m a quieter person than the one I was a year ago. Plaster pictures of our face, ruined reputation in a day. My laugh that would ring through your ears till you went deaf. Yet instead, none of your friends know about the knife in your drawl that has my dried blood on it.