18

They say better to have loved and lost than never loved at all/I say it depends on what our height is before and after we fall. Here I am gripping this pen, trying to translate what I’ve said mentally over and over again. Hopefully when you get this letter it’s not stained by moldy tears and this 99 cent ball-point pen. Ironically you trapped me, funny how life works ain’t it? Despite it dominating my conscious I repress the memories and can’t even explain it. Picked up my ashes and swept ‘em with a broom, and put ‘em in the trash, how typical of you I would get wasted to forget but it would just be time wasted. Truth is I’ll never forget you even though that bitter feeling in my stomach is the shittiest poison I’ve ever tasted. Don’t ever let anyone control you, cause when they leave, so does a majority of you. Stay realistic and maintain individuality, cause not even a life partner understand your reality. It took a year, but my mistakes I’ve realized. I detect the aspect of myself that is human, but my problems I will not over scrutinize I’ve spent hours trying to forget what helped me remember, that even without stability, of something I can still be a member. You’ll never read this, and frankly don’t deserve to, but the purpose of this letter isn’t to deflect blame, if anything, it’s possible I may have hurt you. Though your actions don’t match your intention, when we broke you did a poor job of damage prevention. I’m glad you put me through what you put me through. I learned to deal while karma will continue to haunt you and only you I still remember the nights where I’d stay up till 5, with you I’d fight, despite your lack of realism you taught me a lot. You taught me that those who make you weak also make you strong. Cause those you let burn you will continue to until you put it out on your own. You taught me that when I hide my emotions, they’re hard to find, and that loneliness is OK as long as I’m together in my mind Despite your foggy effort to reach out, rainy days leave your aura with an inevitable cloud of doubt. Incarcerated in my jail of thoughts, institutionalized in my detention of naught. Trapped in my mind with no way to get out, geographical mindstate that is sure of uncertainty, sprinkled with doubt. My heart is weak, but my mind is strong. Contradicted myself again, the boy sings a happy tune but hums a sad song Looking back in reflection, when I see pictures of us in a mirror, all I see is my reflection. Ironic that what was addition turned into subtraction, performed operations until my divided fears turned into action. In this room I sit consumed with emptiness after seventeen shrooms, reflecting over what has won me over but I have still yet to lose. Your loss made me form a habit, turned me into an addict, made my once stable mind erratic with a tendency to side with suicidal tactics. I know I play off our demise as if I wasn’t affected, but by then the disease had spread and we were already infected Too little too late, kinda good but not great. Makes me wonder if this bitter feeling in my stomach is the same poison you taste