I Pray

I can feel it in my stomach. I feel the pit in my stomach and the weight that drags down my eyes. When I think of them I can feel the turning of my insides. I pray this is not how I’ll always feel. That I won’t always feel the physical repercussions of when someone bruises my heart. A heart that I refuse to call broken because I am still praying it will all fade. And that's what bruises do , fade but cracks need glue or stitches and that shits too sticky, I have a fear of needles and closure is not worth allowing you to look into my eyes. It is not worth allowing you back into my life even if just for the moment. And I pray that one day my heart stops getting bruised because I can remember the feeling of every single punch it ever took. I remember every time I have been hurt. My mind and my heart are not the best of friends . My mind won’t let my heart forget. I pray that they learn to get along , for the sake of my stomach because the differences between hungry and sad have become quite hard to differentiate. I cannot tell if my headaches need medicine or just an episode of new girl to temporarily numb the pain.

I pray they feel the consequences of their actions, I pray their heart drops when they see me in the halls . I pray they see me in the distance and wonder what we could have been if there wasn't silence left between the walls. I hope they see me in our hometown and miss the idea of giving me a call. But I can't pray for God to bring evil , because that is not what God is. I just do not want to be the only one regretting the situation. The only one left in remembrance. The only one with a name on a tombstone and a picture in the paper. I pray that I am not dead to them in the way I have worked so hard to kill them inside of me. It feels like I searched so long for heaven but was led straight into hell. I have been through alot in my life but their silence is the loudest I have ever heard someone yell. I pray that I stop saying they are who I hate because who am I to? But I have no remorse for a man who collects broken hearts in alcohol bottles. A Man Who hides behind a fraternity when that money should have really gone to therapy. I pray that one day I understand men like him, what hurt it must have taken to ruin the friendship - and then ruin the friend. I try to have remorse for a girl I've always cared for but You can’t save a person from drowning when she twists the stories and says you are the one who threw her in. I pray that one day I will understand a woman like her , what place of hurt she came from to put validation from a man first. She taught me that sisterhood has evil step sisters. That some people can’t change no matter how long you were convinced they did.

Mostly I pray for my mirror that I sit in front of to cry. The reflection I see tells me what everyone else does. I pray I’ll stop laughing at myself for being human and feeling weak. I pray for the little girl I never allowed myself to be. I pray I learn from the situation and stop letting my heart stand still in the middle of the highway for cars to come at it going 80. I pray my brain and heart become mutual friends with my gut and intuition. I pray I stop being so easy to forgive and be the type of person who can just move on and forget. Because I know I am not the type of person who can hate , but I have always been the one who remembers. I pray the pits in my stomachs and the weight that drags down my eyes become more and more temporary. Though I don't want them to disappear because that would take away from my humanity.