it's easy to hate me.

i know a girl who drags her ghosts with her everywhere. the time that passes only seems to hurt more, instead of less. i doubt she analyzes it much. it might not be her fault, maybe it's just the way she's wired. i'm not her first ghost. if she wants it that way, i'll be the last.

maybe she doesn't WANT to heal. maybe moving on is an admittance of guilt to her. i wish she knew, like, REALLY knew that she was better off now. i wish she could be happy for me. i wish she was happy enough with herself to forget all the bullshit.

i wish she wouldn't try so hard to hate. now THAT's wasted energy.

here's a new piece, tentatively titled... i'll probably think of something better. it's rough, just a first draft. i'll look at it tomorrow and see a billion things that can be tightened up, but i really just want to get this out.

__________________________________________________________________________

Hate is just a cop out

a whisper caught at the back of the throat,
familiar phrases caught on crooked smiles and snaggleteeth;
a skipped breath or heartbeat later and everything's fine, everything's ok

on the surface.
smile, keep on smiling icicles like daggers.

no you're not grinding your teeth,
no you're not going to spontaneously combust,
no you won't tear his beating heart out his ribcage and eat it in front of his vacant eyes.

just breathe, remember the mantra:
years weren't wasted, they were learned from
years weren't wasted, they were learned from
years weren't wasted, they were learned from
learning wasn't wasted, they were years spent
on ghosts, failed plans...
blame him enough and maybe you can forget
that what he was scared of
was you.

blame him enough and maybe you can ignore
the part of you that still loves him.
____________________________________________________________________

if she reads this, i hope she knows i'm not bitter. i'm just trying to understand. i'm the first to admit i made mistakes. perhaps my biggest was not saying goodbye sooner.

still, more time has passed apart than we ever spent together. more than that, even while we were together we spent more time apart than together. that on-again-off-again shit was pretty pointless, but the comfortable bed is always the easiest to lie in.

and it WAS easy. for both of us.
that was a road we fell down together. i've apologized enough. i told her once it was the last time and i meant it.
there's nothing left to be sorry about. now i think i'm just sorry FOR her.

xFx