ScarsAndTheStoriesBehindThem

All I wanted to do was make you smile.
To gaze in between your violin string eyelashes while my heart skipped a symphony.

But I realized that “we” were just a giant arts and crafts project. So I superglued my effort to bits and pieces of good intentions. Paper mache-d my dreams to your reassurances, hoping we could be something.

If only that worked out.

Because I knew all along that I wasn’t meant to stay.
Just for you to get tired of.

Now you see me for what I really am.
Broken.

So you ask how I got these scars.
Streams ran their courses down my face and carved rivers into my cheeks. Tempests of apologies battered on the roof of my mouth, so my excuses could be nailed to my tongue.

I stapled signs to my spine.
Reminders of every reason why I sacrificed who I was for you.
Crucified by your judgments while you pierced my side with your indifference.
All while I tried to resurrect sunsets from behind your eyes.

You ask how I got these scars.
I got them as I picked out all the shrapnel of your smile from my memories. Tore every fragment of your laugh from my ears. And the echoes of your voice from the caverns of my consciousness…so I wouldn’t get lost in them.

So you see these bullet wounds riddled across my chest…remnants of your cocked fingers firing accusations at my fragile conscience.

See, I swallowed my pride to make you happy.
So it climbed up my ribs like jungle gyms and made escape tunnels of my veins.
I walked miles to meet you halfway, over shells of empty words and broken promises while bearing your burdens on my back.

So I bled these psychiatric ink blots onto the same tissues I once tried to dry your tears with. Hid secrets in every syllable of your name. Whispered sweet nothings to your imperfections. And mumbled confessions to old conversations.

See, all I ever wanted to do was make you smile.
Because if I could, I would drown your fears in the blood, sweat and tears that I’ve shed for you. See I hate you, but I miss you, but I hate you…but I miss you…but my scars keep reminding me.

See I got these scars the second I fell for you.
And I wouldn’t have it any other way.