deepundergroundpoetry.com
Let The Record Show
"Do you have any scissors?"
Why to stab you in the throat for making me feel this way? Making me into the blame, making me into the enemy? Is this how they all felt afterwards, who really was the evil ex in your failed relationships, was it them or you? Oh I'm sorry-- Did I just hit a nerve, did I just hit a pressure point? For once I'm not sorry, you did this to yourself. Because the truth is my pretty little Pareidolia, you broke up with me-- You could have saved me but instead you murdered me, you could have kept me but instead you gave me away, you could have fought for me, but instead you surrendered and lost the battle that I wasn't worth winning over. Apparently (according to outside sources) you were testing me, wanting me to choose you but at the same time pushing me into him. And so I say, let the record show-- I am done with all of your games, I am done with all of your problems. Today I sat and listened as we spoke to your friends, and as she joked around:
"My boyfriend's friend come up to him all the time and say that they're going to steal me from him and he's always like 'take her'."
"Ha, wow where's the appreciation?"
I glared at you and smiled replying,
"Yeah I know. . . Right?"
You walk away from me, leaving me crying tears of broken ambers. You always walked away from me, when I actually showed some sign of having problems your problems were always more important.
I'm manically depressed-- You're taking sleeping pills.
I'm majorly depressed-- You were raped.
I was abandoned-- You were abused.
I'm angry-- You're bipolar.
I'm hurting myself-- You have PTSD.
I'm suicidal-- You have multiple personality disorder.
I'm having an anxiety attack-- You're Ryder.
I'm angry at my parents-- You're Rene.
How am I suppose to feel when you couldn't even deal with me? Maybe you couldn't deal with yourself, your own problems. Abused by your parents, raped by your boyfriend, left by your friends, ignored by your best friend, broke everyone else's heart-- including your own?
I needed you and you were never there.
He was, he is, he always will be there for me.
While he held my hand, you put the knife in it.
While he pulled me together, you tore me apart.
While he tries to make me happy, you make me hate myself and everyone around me.
He leaves class and school to hold me and wipe my tears.
You couldn't stand up to your friends and family when they talked about me.
A year and three months? And you gave it up, you allowed me to date you both because you couldn't handle the scars on my arms. A year and three months, and you placed the broken pieces of my heart in a box and gave it to him to put together and now that he has, you want me back-- Why? So you can ignore my problems some more? So you can murder me again, in the coldest of blood with your own two hands?
What's that you poor pathetic paranoid?
You're jealous?
You're lonely?
You miss me?
You two faced liar-- You made your bed, now lie in it.
How many people have you bedded and than left? How many people have you said you loved and then left, were they wrong to say the things about you that they did? You gave me a chance to prove the rumors true and now my sanity and my life is on the line because every chance comes with a price-- This one price was my life.
'"--We made a pact one night.
You and me.
If we ever left each other we'd kill ourselves.
Morbid huh?
Then how come I'm the only one holding up my end of the deal?
But.
It's okay.
I love you.
You love him.
I had my chance.
I always fuck things up."
Oh yes, you fucked up-- BIG TIME. You fucked up, you gave up the best thing that ever happen to you and I am referring to myself. There is no price that you can put on our love, if that's what you want to call it now. You faded star, you broken angel, you cracked mirror-- You did this to yourself.
So. . . Let the record show, that you killed me in the coldest of blood-- Murdered me with my own soul, destroyed me with my own hands. Let the record show that you were jealous of someone that you could never be, someone who has sympathy and empathy and love for someone that isn't himself, who could change into a transparent eyeball and see me as not his girlfriend but as a person with emotions and problems and feelings.
Let the record show that you have broken me down, broken me down more than I could have ever been broken down before. I am no longer just a broken girl, I am a wrenched whore in your eyes also-- Aren't I?
I swore I was a whore, otherwise the word wouldn't be carved into my leg.
His name is in my other one and it's because I love him so much.
The "A" in his name is on my arm over the scars that you helped me put there.
When I cut because of him, it's to release the hormones that build up when he's not with me and can't show him how much I physically love him. When I cut because of you, it's because you make me so frustrated and angry that I want to rip my skin off and drain myself of blood, just so I can write you a message on the wall with it.
Let the record show that in his eyes I am a broken girl.
Let the record show that in your eyes I am a wrenched whore.
I loved you?-- I'll never be able to live that down.
I touched you? I'll never be able to live that down.
I fucked you? I'll never be able to live that down.
You dirty fucking, paranoid liar you think this torment is romantic-- Well it's not, you're making me swallow the poison that your lies fill the air with.
I hate you!
I hate you!
I hate you!
I hate you!
I hate you!
I hate you!
I hate you!
I hate you!
I hate you!
I hate you!
I hate you!
Move on with your fucking life, I'm happy now-- You killed a part of my heart, mind, body and soul-- You made me into this weak person that I have never been because I always had to be strong for you. I always had to fight for you, I always had to promise things to you. Well any promise you made-- You've broken. You lost the game, you failed your own test. You lost the best thing that has ever happen to you.
I hope you're proud.
Congratulations love, you fucked up.
Now go play pretend as someone else, make believe your life is all happy and wonderful. I know the illness by the image you create, see if anyone else will help you-- See if anyone else will care.
Because they won't-- They're the reason you're like this.
Actions speak louder than our words?
My words speak louder than my actions.
Goodnight my darling, our time together was nice when I was blinded by love. But now that I see clearly what you've done, who you were-- You were selfish and cruel, you never helped me only thought of yourself. You never made me feel good, just ashamed and embarressed.
You ruined your own life and I don't have to take place in any pact "we" made because that was on the assumption that we truely loved each other and you can't love someone if you're only looking through a mirror.
Move on and let me go already.
Because I'm done.
Fucking deal with it.
And let the record show.
Why to stab you in the throat for making me feel this way? Making me into the blame, making me into the enemy? Is this how they all felt afterwards, who really was the evil ex in your failed relationships, was it them or you? Oh I'm sorry-- Did I just hit a nerve, did I just hit a pressure point? For once I'm not sorry, you did this to yourself. Because the truth is my pretty little Pareidolia, you broke up with me-- You could have saved me but instead you murdered me, you could have kept me but instead you gave me away, you could have fought for me, but instead you surrendered and lost the battle that I wasn't worth winning over. Apparently (according to outside sources) you were testing me, wanting me to choose you but at the same time pushing me into him. And so I say, let the record show-- I am done with all of your games, I am done with all of your problems. Today I sat and listened as we spoke to your friends, and as she joked around:
"My boyfriend's friend come up to him all the time and say that they're going to steal me from him and he's always like 'take her'."
"Ha, wow where's the appreciation?"
I glared at you and smiled replying,
"Yeah I know. . . Right?"
You walk away from me, leaving me crying tears of broken ambers. You always walked away from me, when I actually showed some sign of having problems your problems were always more important.
I'm manically depressed-- You're taking sleeping pills.
I'm majorly depressed-- You were raped.
I was abandoned-- You were abused.
I'm angry-- You're bipolar.
I'm hurting myself-- You have PTSD.
I'm suicidal-- You have multiple personality disorder.
I'm having an anxiety attack-- You're Ryder.
I'm angry at my parents-- You're Rene.
How am I suppose to feel when you couldn't even deal with me? Maybe you couldn't deal with yourself, your own problems. Abused by your parents, raped by your boyfriend, left by your friends, ignored by your best friend, broke everyone else's heart-- including your own?
I needed you and you were never there.
He was, he is, he always will be there for me.
While he held my hand, you put the knife in it.
While he pulled me together, you tore me apart.
While he tries to make me happy, you make me hate myself and everyone around me.
He leaves class and school to hold me and wipe my tears.
You couldn't stand up to your friends and family when they talked about me.
A year and three months? And you gave it up, you allowed me to date you both because you couldn't handle the scars on my arms. A year and three months, and you placed the broken pieces of my heart in a box and gave it to him to put together and now that he has, you want me back-- Why? So you can ignore my problems some more? So you can murder me again, in the coldest of blood with your own two hands?
What's that you poor pathetic paranoid?
You're jealous?
You're lonely?
You miss me?
You two faced liar-- You made your bed, now lie in it.
How many people have you bedded and than left? How many people have you said you loved and then left, were they wrong to say the things about you that they did? You gave me a chance to prove the rumors true and now my sanity and my life is on the line because every chance comes with a price-- This one price was my life.
'"--We made a pact one night.
You and me.
If we ever left each other we'd kill ourselves.
Morbid huh?
Then how come I'm the only one holding up my end of the deal?
But.
It's okay.
I love you.
You love him.
I had my chance.
I always fuck things up."
Oh yes, you fucked up-- BIG TIME. You fucked up, you gave up the best thing that ever happen to you and I am referring to myself. There is no price that you can put on our love, if that's what you want to call it now. You faded star, you broken angel, you cracked mirror-- You did this to yourself.
So. . . Let the record show, that you killed me in the coldest of blood-- Murdered me with my own soul, destroyed me with my own hands. Let the record show that you were jealous of someone that you could never be, someone who has sympathy and empathy and love for someone that isn't himself, who could change into a transparent eyeball and see me as not his girlfriend but as a person with emotions and problems and feelings.
Let the record show that you have broken me down, broken me down more than I could have ever been broken down before. I am no longer just a broken girl, I am a wrenched whore in your eyes also-- Aren't I?
I swore I was a whore, otherwise the word wouldn't be carved into my leg.
His name is in my other one and it's because I love him so much.
The "A" in his name is on my arm over the scars that you helped me put there.
When I cut because of him, it's to release the hormones that build up when he's not with me and can't show him how much I physically love him. When I cut because of you, it's because you make me so frustrated and angry that I want to rip my skin off and drain myself of blood, just so I can write you a message on the wall with it.
Let the record show that in his eyes I am a broken girl.
Let the record show that in your eyes I am a wrenched whore.
I loved you?-- I'll never be able to live that down.
I touched you? I'll never be able to live that down.
I fucked you? I'll never be able to live that down.
You dirty fucking, paranoid liar you think this torment is romantic-- Well it's not, you're making me swallow the poison that your lies fill the air with.
I hate you!
I hate you!
I hate you!
I hate you!
I hate you!
I hate you!
I hate you!
I hate you!
I hate you!
I hate you!
I hate you!
Move on with your fucking life, I'm happy now-- You killed a part of my heart, mind, body and soul-- You made me into this weak person that I have never been because I always had to be strong for you. I always had to fight for you, I always had to promise things to you. Well any promise you made-- You've broken. You lost the game, you failed your own test. You lost the best thing that has ever happen to you.
I hope you're proud.
Congratulations love, you fucked up.
Now go play pretend as someone else, make believe your life is all happy and wonderful. I know the illness by the image you create, see if anyone else will help you-- See if anyone else will care.
Because they won't-- They're the reason you're like this.
Actions speak louder than our words?
My words speak louder than my actions.
Goodnight my darling, our time together was nice when I was blinded by love. But now that I see clearly what you've done, who you were-- You were selfish and cruel, you never helped me only thought of yourself. You never made me feel good, just ashamed and embarressed.
You ruined your own life and I don't have to take place in any pact "we" made because that was on the assumption that we truely loved each other and you can't love someone if you're only looking through a mirror.
Move on and let me go already.
Because I'm done.
Fucking deal with it.
And let the record show.
Published 15th Dec 2011
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