rainherself

It shouldn't be this hard. You broke my heart a million times and finally you stopped looking back to see if I was bleeding. I was...I am. I know that the stars in your eyes have stopped shining as they look into mine. I saw them transform into something else, something I can't quite put my finger on. And I saw them stray before you even realized there was another direction to look in. I should have know that the last time you pushed me away and walked out the front door, would indeed be our very last anything. Given the chance, well...I wanted to say it would be different. But that line has been worn down by my tongue and my lips. A skipping record that slowly fades as you lay down in your newlywed bed where I can no longer reach you. Safe in her arms where I can no longer affect you like I did for so long. I know she is your bubble. I still preserve these memories in a box, high up on that same shelf, but I bring them down every day and sift through them alone, in quiet thoughts and haunted day dreams. I watch them rot and turn yellow and I pray that they go back to the places they are meant to be. In my wallet, on the mantle, hung on the wall. Everytime I hit the hammer to the head of the nail, it bends. I start over. again again again again again AGAIN. And as much as I hope it will, the cycle never loses meaning and my determination stays strong and demonstrates a will I never thought I had. But I should have never discovered it this way. I shouldn't still find my only strength in you after all this time. And as you go about your daily routine, picking out a home, buying baby booties, I can only imagine how oblivious you are to all of this. And that's the worst part.