I would like to tell you that you are too late. You have not done nothing but pain me and it is too late for me to hold back. There is nothing irrational about it, I am as I am, and change is not easy. Hate is hate, understood and not questioned. Yet it is always questioned. Immature? I disagree, I know exactly what I am doing.
It is true there is no point in hate, only a sharp edge. And with it I hope to severe ties, for standing with none is often better than standing with those you dislike.
It does not matter if you do not understand it, I do not ask you to; Respect my feelings and accept them.
Say you know me, but you don't. You cannot accept the fact that I want nothing to do with anyone. Ignorance is bliss. Remove her from my life and my mind, yet the only ignorance present is that towards my feelings. Know me not, for if you did, you would not ask me day by day why I feel this way. You would accept it. Know me not, for if you did, there would be no confusion present. Know me not, for if you did, there would be no opposition to how i feel. Understanding was never required, only a sense of support. Lack of support is what I receive, for you cannot see what i see, and you can only see what you see. How do you expect me to become like this? Have I not liked her as you have. and now i am here. I see both sides, and you see one, yet I am wrong.
I am wrong, always wrong, because emotion overcome my logic? No. it is not so, my emotion is driven from logic. Tell me that hate is immature, and I will tell you, that you have not lived. If you cannot hate then you cannot love. For true love is derived only from a sense of hate in a previous stage.
Tell me that hate is not to be used, and I will tell you that I hate. I hate.
And what was this hate derived from? All i asked for was ignorance, and you could not respect that. Every conversation, every time, had to include her. Driven me to anger. Driven me to hatred. And like that, you have driven me out of this world. Entered me into a dimension of hatred.
Accident or not, it was done. You cannot tell me after you stab my hand that it was an accident. My hand was still stabbed. Still severed, and bleeding. But i was born with two, and in the other hand, will come fourth the seeds of revenge, in every form I can imagine.
Know you not, for I do not know you. For if I did, I would have seen this coming.
Stop me before I do something stupid?
I think not.
and how he loved her. How he adored her. how he cared for her. and no day passed that he wouldn't find himself lingering in thoughts of her. and yet something was missing. still. still missing. slowly this gap was filled with love. love from her heart when she gazed into his eyes. It amazed him. and it seemed everything did at some point or another. amazement, she amazed him, but words failed to fully express this feeling. and it happened often that words escaped his lips to be replaced by long gazes. long silences. but in his head, these silences were symphonies of his feelings, his growing love, his joy.
Basked in thoughts of glory, of love. basked in fantasies of her fondness for him. it was a mere dream, a figment of his head. he dreamt of nothing more, and it only killed him that she was no closer than she had been years ago. yet the same feelings still arose when he looked at her. but she knew nothing of it. she knew nothing of him, and he knew little of her. through the hallway he walked every day stopping briefly to glance at her, a flicker of his eyes was all he needed. silence.
I found my escape in this boy. found my escape in a person that i used to be me. found no resolution to the problems that plague him tho. found nothing because i was not meant to. not yet.
A girl, daddy's little girl engaged in her own dreams, her own problems, her own issues. and vaguely searching the crowd for someone to understand. For someone to hear her as she cried day by day, tear by tear. She cared for no one, for no one cared for her. no one believed in her. tear. lost desire. eyes, search the room. and no one seemed to gaze back. drop. her feelings had vanished replaced with emptiness. and yearning. no longer for her parents to see her, no longer for herself, no longer to be heard. yearning for each day to pass so she could see the night.
So she could gaze upon the moon knowing it was the same moon someone else gazed on. dry tears ripple into the pool of her mind as she lay, eyes locked with the moon. mind lost, heart locked.
Passes through the hallway and looks at a boy who looks at his toes. she imagines the things she would say to him if he spoke. imagines who he might be. love is foreign to her, but he makes it seem so natural. she passes. unsatisfied.
and the yearn came back for someone to love her. hold her. care.
and again tears shine in the moonlight waiting to drop
her eyes sparkle, wet as she sits on a swing. moonlight shining, darkness enveloping the sky. and there sat the boy. on the swing next to her. smiling.
A tear, a drop ran down his cheek and landed on her hair. Her forehead held closely to his lips as he kissed her.
A boy, a man sixteen years of age and wandering the abyss of life. Intrigued by his own shadow, his own thoughts, his own achievements. Yet he sees no others and it is his demise. He knows no one else and it is to no surprise that he knows little of anyone other than himself. And even then, he cannot reach into the depths of his being. To answer the questions he asks himself.
Simplicity is fragile and in moments he can unlock their complications. It is the virtue he has, the vice he carries. It seems too much, but not enough. He seeks none other than the missing piece in his heart. A piece he long sought for in friends, family, in himself. And to no success. It eludes him.
A girl, a beautiful woman. He likes her. Her eyes scan the room but never lock on any one pair. And he yearns for that brief moment. He sees her, but does she see him? Empty gazes. They mean nothing and he is left to search the room himself.
Questions arise. never quelled, but always arising.
a hall. a locker. and he stands near her but never said hi. and she never saw him in the right light. she never took him as he took himself. she saw him how others perceived him. and he questioned that. but questions never seemed to do him right.
Persistence never paid off.
The man walks away lost and confused. The boy stays and ponders. and to the boy, the girl said. hi.
and the boy looked down at his toes.
a gaze upward again and she is gone.
questions never seemed to do him right. never quelled his thirst