Sometimes I feel everything, every ache, every thought, and every emotion. Sometimes it is very still inside and I think that whatever was, what used to be…what I used to be has died. I can't be sad about it, it's a relief. I don't want anything like that alive, things that sick shouldn't have legs, shouldn't be out creeping around.
But there is a memory that still exists. You're so very near me that afternoon, I can smell you, I recall the taste of your mouth as you hover. I look at you, I flash a smile. You try to read me so I shut down and you're confused.
We have exactly what we deserve in life, don't we darling? You don't deserve anything of mine anymore. Every time you feel a hypnic jerk you think of me, the smell of incense, my head being thrown back, my body snapping like a rubber band, screaming in pain, you listened to me scream in pain. When you handed over the cash calculating...you paid what you make in an hour to have my bones cracked, and a bit of pain purged. I left a smudge of blood colored lipstick on your favorite shirt, because I had to hold you and cry and forgive you. You held me like a child, and said my name over and over. Dead, everything was dead but so raw and painful and alive.
As of late, you are more broken and defeated than I've ever seen you. It's sad and satisfying at the same time. I used to love you so and now I feel empty, just a lonely echo where there was once a sweet song.
I forgive you for the broken heart. I don't forgive you for wasting my time.
