This is the last time. I know I’ve said this a million times before, but this is it. I can’t do it anything without it being an epic lie of strength that I told everyone I have. I don’t want to talk, it hurts to talk. I don’t want to wake up in the morning and realize things aren’t the way they were yesterday. My eyes are going to swell shut from the constant flowing of tears coming out of my eyes like water out of a faucet. The sobbing is putting a strain on my throat, like a cat scratching a bedpost. My pink pillow is stained permanently from the black residue of my mascara and eyeliner that now make a black puddle on top of my pink pillow. No one understands, they have their guys and girls, and I’m left in the shadow watching and waiting for the next lie to come, the next blow to hit me, and maybe realize it isn’t worth it anymore. So I’ll put on the fake smile and the fake attitude, pretend like my heart hasn’t exploded into the millions of pieces its now in. Just make everyone believe everything’s perfect, while everything’s falling apart.
The Last Time
October 15, 2009