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I'm over him...?
I sit as a pebble on the side of his memory lane by now, yet, when i was a boulder in his way? That's when love threw itself our way. I remember, just faintly, but enough to awaken a forever lusting poet, what it felt like to be in his arms as the sun rose through my bedroom window. now he is gone and he has probably moved on, as have I. What is it I feel then? This ache expanding in my lungs, this pain pounding upon my heart, this monster trudging and clawing through my veins? "Why does it hurt?" I suddenly ask myself in a low whisper. but there is no answer so I ask again but louder, "Why does it hurt?" Once again there is no answer, only the echo of my souls question burning down the walls of the dark room I stand in. "Why does it hurt?" I finally scream to the burning walls as I let my legs give in and my body drop to the cement floor below. All I can hear is the echoing of my own question. The walls seem to whisper back with a slightly snake like slur, "Why does it hurt? Why does it hurt? Why does it hurt?" The walls mock me over and over as I ask again and again screaming at the top of my lungs each time. They don't know the answer, only I know. However, I will never admit the truth to myself. Suddenly my conscious control is gone and all I am is a lost shadow slowly spinning out of existence. I start hitting my self against the wall over and over until bruises form all over my body. I punch the wall many times as well and continue when my knuckles begin to bleed. with each punch I throw, the more blood splatters on the wall, the more tears fall, the more heart beats I beat, the more pain I'm num to, the more vulnerable I become, the more I hurt myself. I choke on my tears now as I still scream the question I know too well. I gasp for air but the monster inside me shortens my breath. By the time I am done I sit in the center of the room and cry without a single whimper. I let the bloody, now silent walls, sit and watch my helpless body shake from shock.
"Why does it hurt?" the walls whisper one last time.
their question touches the skin on my neck and hatred fills my heart as I feel it slither from one ear to the other. that small delusional touch sets off a gunfire in my mind and I let my vision fog as the hot, salty tears flood my face. I feel my heart begin to slow. Thump...Thump....Thump.....Thump.......Thump...........Thump.....nothing. I sat there and listened to myself die, I had beaten myself so long and so hard that I killed myself. I never answered those walls, I never answered myself, I never answered him. No one will ever know, especially him. I could have never told him I loved him.
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