Saturday, April 13, 2013

It's Harmful, You Know

I'm feeling stupid because I know there isn't any you and me. But when you're trying to beat the odds up, you're trying to keep your nods up. And you know that you should let him go, but the fear of the unknown of holding another lover strong, sends you back into the zone.
I wish I never looked, I wish I never touched. I wish that I could stop loving you so much because I'm the only one that's trying to keep us together, when all of the signs say that I should forget you. I wish you weren't the best, the best I ever had. I wish that the good outweighed the bad, because it'll never be over until you tell me it's over. These battle scars don't look like they're fading, don't look like they're ever going away. I wish I couldn't feel. I wish I couldn't love. I wish that I could stop because it hurts so much.
And just leave then. You shouldn't have, but you said it. And I hope you never come back. It shouldn't have happened but you let it. Now you're down on the ground screaming, "Medic!" The only thing that comes is the post-traumatic stresses. Shields, body armor, and vests don't work properly; that's why you're in a locker full of hurt. The enemy within and all the fires from your friends: the best medicine is to probably just let him win.

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