Can you hear me?

September 16, 2010
By carbon BRONZE, South Surrey, Other
carbon BRONZE, South Surrey, Other
1 article 0 photos 0 comments

Can you see me?

Can you hear me?

I'm the one you love. The one who makes your heart race. I'm your constant smile; I'm the brightness in your eyes. I'm the voice in your head that comforts you, that gives you strength and confidence. I'm the late-night messages exchanged when you should be sleeping. I'm your favourite book and your favourite song and your favourite movie; I'm your favourite and everything I touch becomes your favourite. I'm your happiness; your courage; your other half.

I'm the one every song, every word, reminds you of. I'm the box of letters shoved into the back of your closet, written in the days we knew each other. The one you don't have the heart to throw out; the one you can't even bear to look at. I'm the book missing from your shelf that I never returned; I'm the gap you haven't yet filled. I'm the necklace you threw out long ago, the one whose weight you still feel around your neck. I'm the keys on your piano that you no longer play; I'm the melodies that make you sad that used to make you happy. I'm the one who broke every promise I ever made to you; I'm the one who betrayed you. I'm the one who lied; I'm the one who changed. I'm the one who left you behind and never looked back. I'm the one who broke you to pieces and laughed as you struggled to pick yourself up. I'm every tear you cry and every fake smile you plaster on. I'm the one who haunts you; I'm the one who keeps you up at night with regrets and unspoken words and words too soon spoken. I'm the food you no longer want to eat, the image burned beneath the eyes you can no longer shut. I'm your fear; your insecurity; your anger; your depression; your bitterness. You hate yourself, because you can't hate me.

I'm the one you looked at, once your tears had dried. Once you'd gotten a good night's sleep and eaten a good meal and laughed, laughed again. I'm the one you looked at, once you had brushed yourself off and stood up, head held high. I'm the things that try to hurt you but can't. I'm the one you're not afraid to look straight at although I'm afraid, I'm afraid to look you in the eye. I'm your past tense and you charged into the present. I'm your strength; your resilience; your scar.

My voice is getting softer and softer; fading away.

Can you hear me?

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