Dear You, Thanks.

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
Dear you. Thanks for ruining me.

Submitted: March 07, 2013

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Submitted: March 07, 2013




Dear you,

You tell me that you are fine, that you’re happy and ok

I talk to you every day and only in your eyes can I see that you’re in pain

You hug me and say that everything’s alright, good even,

But I can’t believe it, how can I believe it,

When all I see you do any more is chug back one more drink at the bar?

Take one more pill then before and lie down on the kitchen floor

Yah that’s okay, go ahead, but the next time you tell me you love me,

You better know that I know.

I know that you lie to my face every day,

That when you stay out late, you’re not as innocent as you say

And you better know that I see

I see you kill yourself, torture yourself blindly,

Maybe you don’t know that you’re running out of air,

But I do, everyone does

You can put on a show and dance around in your mask of pride

But I won’t buy it, and you know you won’t either

So dear you,

What I really want to say, what I want to spit in your face,

Is that I’m done.

I’m done pretending I’m yours, and that I’m happy to be here,

I’m done hiding my scars from you,

I’m done lying for you, to you, to me

But most of all, I’m done trying to tell myself that these wounds are self-inflicted

I’m sure you can see them,

They’re right in front of you,

And damn, I hope you realize about now, that you gave them to me.

You were the blade that drove through my skin,

The blood that covered the floor

You were the Aspirin piled in my hand making my mind beg for more

Hell, you were the voice in my mind since before I can remember,

The voice that just said no

There wasn’t any trust, only neglect

No “hello, Goodbye, Be safe” just “Get back”

So for the lack of care and the cold that’s filled my heart,

I hope you had fun, and that someday you’ll see

That I’m not gonna be there when your last tears fall,

When your death beds near,

‘Cuz, the way it’s going now, I’m gonna beat you to it

Finally, I want you to hear,

That the words you used to say, when you told me I was small,

That I didn’t know sad, or pain, or hurt,

That you’d been through worse and I should be glad you weren’t like them

Well, sorry but your mission failed

All I can see is a broken person, delusional and lost

Shattering the ones around you like the more I lose, the less pain you’ll feel

So thanks. Thanks for being there. Thanks for your endless support.

Thanks for a childhood I’ll never forget,

And dear you, Thanks for a childhood I’ll never want to remember.



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