The past is just practice

I am the girl waiting patiently for her turn at the throne. I’m the girl that’s tired of feeling alone. I’m the girl who sits on the corner at parties, watching everyone as they go by. I feel like I’m already gone. Helping others as they go along. But then there’s another part of me. This girl is caged, waiting to be set free. She is tormented and controlled. Her body is shaky and cold. She screams but no one can hear. She is left in a room of despair. She takes to the needle like a baby with a bottle, the past ten years living not so comfortably numb. She pretends that she’ll be okay, but inside she knows she’s battered and frayed. I’ve taken this girl by the hand. I’ve told her my plan. I finally found my counter part. But the distance between us is paralyzing. I guess it’s true what they say, ‘better to have loved and lost.’ Even though I lost myself too. I’m too tired to keep trying. Too sick to kick the habit. Too Far gone. I feel my brain transformed. I feel the fire in my heart too clearly. I feel every emotion too deeply. I’m afraid that my loss will hurt others, but I’m even more afraid of letting them watch me slowly end my life-because that way they’d have to see the torture I put myself through. And to my lover – I do love you. But it hurts me when you lie. You know all of me, and I feel I know so little about your past. But your past is not who I fell in love with -so it does not matter. I would have accepted you no matter what you did. What matters to me is who you are with me. How you treat me, if you trust me, if you love me. If you survive take that with you. Learn to trust. Something I never did before I met you. Something I hope I showed you how to do. When I die I hope your face is the last thing I see. This desperation comes so easily. I hope I go without pain. I hope we can meet again, just as souls. Free of any cage. Free of torment. I hope I leave peacefully. As long as I breathe I hope.