I didn't go. (a poem)

Will we make it?

Will we make it?

Will we make it?

I could never stop asking because I could never know.

And you held my hand and told me,

“No.

There is no chance because you will go.”

But I did not go.

I kissed your scars and I tried to take your pain.

This pain that I couldn’t even comprehend,

I wanted to feel it.

I wanted to feel the way your eyes closed and when you couldn’t even breathe.

When your body tensed up and tears poured down your cheeks.

I wanted the sleepless nights and the never ending fear.

And some nights, I wanted to bleed,

Just for a moment,

So I could understand

Why you would take my hand

And stare at the way it moved.

And then let it go.

We were like this beautiful song that’s always being sung

And everyone wants to sing it,

But our lyrics were all wrong.

What should have been love and happiness,

Turned out to be pain and sadness,

With love tying is all together in way that can never be undone.

And it wasn’t undone,

It was cut.

I sit here and wonder where you are, what you are doing, who you are with,

If you hurt.

And I’m alone

I’m staring in this mirror and picking out my imperfections and wondering which one you saw first.

Because I am not pretty

And I am not good

And you looked into my eyes and you were telling me to go.

Leave while I still can.

Well I couldn’t.

Because you are me.

And I am you.

You took my hand and you told me to not let go,

And I didn’t.

I listened to you and I held on.

And when you left,

I kept holding on.

As if you had left the biggest part of you with me.

And I couldn’t sleep or eat or breathe,

And the pain that you had been feeling was suddenly inside of me.

And I can’t let it go,

Because it’s you.

All the nights that I sat sleepless,

And all the days that I went hungry,

They were you, you, you.

“Will we make it?”

I don’t ask that anymore.

Because you were right,

But you were wrong.

No.

We cannot make it, we did not make it.

But I did not go.

For, now I stand alone with all our broken parts around me.

I’m staring at the rubber bands and necklaces and kisses and love

And they are broken and they are in pieces.

And I clean it  up every day.

I scrub at my dresser and my carpet and I make my bed.

Because our pieces are everywhere.

And despite all these words being directed towards you ,

It’s not for you.

It’s for me.

Because, I cannot clean enough to get this pain out of my chest

Or our memories off the floor

Or these words out of my head.