Jan 21 2012
The Last Time
Put it all out on the line..
As it seems, for the last time.
Gave it my all, Had a ball,
Weaving words and speaking rhyme,
Trying to find a way to say
“I Love You”
Without sounding so vulnerable.
And feeling so fragile,
As if one small drop
Could break me.
And I fall again.
As it seems, for the last time.
As I said, the last time:
“This is the last time.”
But we both knew it wasn’t true.
Except for this time, I mean it.
I can’t suffer this again.
Not like last time.
Cold, jaded, reposed
In this cold silence
I cry a desperate plea
To any who’ll hear it:
Please, let this be,
The last time.
(4 votes, average: 4.50 out of 5)
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Nothing to say to this, really.
The stories you weave with simple words are amazing…
Never stop.
Never.
Thank you pixie. You are kind for making me thing my poetry and prose isn’t so lost in this wide world.
I wrote this out of quiet desperation a few nights ago. That day, I bumped into this woman that broke my heart, for the last time. This poem was a vent, something I had to get out so that I might be able to achieve some sleep for the night without thoughts of her keeping me awake, and mournful of what is, what was, and what never shall be.
I’ve lost so much sleep over her, and just wish my feelings for her would subside. I can’t afford to let thoughts of her find purchase within me anymore. What is one to do, with all these feelings of Love unrequited? I could bottle them up and make myself sick from all the emotion welling, or I can release it all, into the universe; weave my words and emotions into a tapestry; a picture so that all that truly care may share in.
She will never read this. She simply doesn’t care. She is incapable of emotion, not towards me, nor the man she shares her bed with now. She’s been hurt to much to ever invest emotionally again. So, while I spent months trying to “unlock” her heart, I see now it was all in vain.
I must move on; find someone to Love who is worthy of my heart. Easier said than done, as it seems.