I Will Not Be There

This is a story, my story of broken glory It isn't very pretty, it's honestly quite the contrary So buckle up. This may be slow right now but trust me It hit 100 miles an hour before it started Because now, you don't know me.   I am sad to say this but if I make my tapesYours will be the first and the last one I makeI had a hunch that this could be moreBut I also suspected hidden hell and thornsWe had two or three yearsNothing I'll ever forgetThen one day it slowed, stopped.Time froze. Reset.I laid in my bed thinking of my lifeOf what I'd done, how I screwed it upLittle did I know, it was you who fucked up.Time passed and I came back to youBack to the same hell, but the thorns?They grew. This time they weren't just toxic, but also deceivingLike this time you're stuck in my mind foreverNever leaving.It wasn't romantic, even though I tried.We were only best friends, it's not like you liedOr did you? Did you ever look at me the way I did at you?Did you ever feel how it felt when to the ground, my love you threw?Did you ever breakdown in tears after school because you realizedThe one person who possibly knew you better than any otherDecided that she would leave you. It was then I realized my months of trying were just a waste of time.It was then I realized I was on my own.I didn't have a best friend nowAt least, not in the way you were.And so, while I endured the hardest trial I had ever knownWhile I fought for my life, constantly being overthrownYou left me.I layed on the cold stone, while it was simultaneouslyRaining and flames were fallingDown on my back, scorching and scarring what I had fought to protectFor you I gave up everything I had keptAnd then you were the one who took all I had left. To you, this story was writtenI've tried to get over you, let you with himBut how could I ever forget years spentGetting to know someone like we have years left?You can't.So here I am.I will continue to fight, I will live on. But just know that when you have nobody,When the fire is consuming you so greatlyThat your hair begins to fray and your bones begin to crackYou can call out for help and scream my name.But when I am the last one who could help protectWhat remains of your broken spirit... I will not be there.

 

This poem is about: 
Me

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