Stone and Mortar

New Poem. Not sure if there is a specific person in mind with this poem, or if it is simply a collection of past. There really isn't any rhyme or rhythm to the poem so don't try and find it. It's not even a poem really, it's more just a collection of thought. So I hope you enjoy. Leave comments. Etc. <3







One scar at a time



I built up the walls



each brick a cut-



that you left on my heart.



Each tear I shed,



the mortar to hold it in place



but each time you smiled at me,



a brick fell away.



I tore down my castle



to let in your light,



to bring in the sun,



but soon darkness descended,



and hatred consumed me,



as my walls caved in.



The flood gates had opened



and pain rushed in,



drowning in sorrows



choking on sins.



I reached for your hands,



my salvation incarnate,



but instead of my safety



wrapped up in your arms,



I was left there to die,



your smile no longer a place I could find,



but only the monster I had feared would burn me alive.



I rebuilt my walls,



each cut was a brick,



each bruise a support,



and tears as my morter.



Now it is stronger,



no longer can you find a way in.



I can't trust those eyes,



or your sickening smile.



Now you are back,



asking to let my hair down.



this is no fairy tale,



but if you insist,



I'll show you just how much it hurts to resist.



My archers take guard,



armed with words that can sting



and syllables to kill.



My walls are invincible,



can't you see?



I built them to be love proof,



the moment you hurt me.

It's over

"Screaming and then silence" To anyone else that phrase would be one of the best jokes on a cheesy youtube cartoon, but to me it's my nightly ritual. I awaken from nightmares and even dreams this way. My body sky rockets out of bed, clinging to his hat, my voice echoing through my empty room. I am alone there. He is not with me. Only his hat to keep me company. An inanimate object, no good for conversation, only a reminder of what will never be. I rest my head back against the pillows, the soft cotton enveloping me. As I close my eyes I wonder, I let my mind go back and analyze, analyze what the dream meant, or even let myself wish to be back there. Back to where I can see his face, to hear his voice or what I remember of it. I wish to go back to the before, when the biggest adrenaline rush was just knowing that he would be in Utah, he would be home. Back when it was looking forward to seeing my best friend, and before his voice made my head spin, his touch made my body ache and his name sent chills down my spine. If I could return to when things were innocent, when I was ignorant of the joy that shown in my smile and what it truly meant. Before I figured it out, before I fought, before I picked up my verbal sword and shield and tried for the impossible. I would give anything to back to perfection, the perfect friendship, the best of friends, attached at the hip at any event, desperately hugging each other when it was time for him to leave. Now I fear. I fear that he sees me in a different light, that he will eventually abandon me, that I am alone and without my best friend to protect me. My dreams lead me down a road of destruction, a road towards him. He is my destruction and my salvation. I went 7 days without speaking to him, 7 moons I spent waking up to my own terror, 7 suns of wishing I could hear his voice, 7 dreams repeating themselves, 7 nightmares I wish I could forget, 7 desperate pleas for help, 7 is a number I will never forget. I'm feared what would happen when my 7 days of silence had finally ended. I had feared that when we finally spoke it would be him saying goodbye. Instead he called me, told me it was good to hear my voice and that he missed me. My best friend still wished me the best, still wanted to be a part of my life, even though I had hurt him, had almost destroyed his relationship with his one true love, and had almost destroyed myself in the process he still cared. I thought I had lost him forever, my giant would never be around again, but no, I was wrong. He came back, as best he could. Distance being our only setback. I care for him deeply. I love him with all of my heart. And every time I think of how much I love him, and with how much of my soul I poured into convincing him I loved him, it breaks my heart to think of him. Instead of the name Tasadar reminding me to work on my book, it shatters my heart, it reminds me that my great leader is gone. Instead of the name Taco making me laugh and crave food, I cringe to know I'm not "taco's girl", instead of the name Josh reminding me I know too many people by that name, I hear it and all I think of is him even if HE isn't who they are talking about. I hold back tears at the thought of losing him. I want to scream at the world when I think of all the words he said to me, all the promises he made, and all the lies they turned out to be. I want to drive down there and slap him, kiss him, scream at him and beg him to come home. But he is home, his home is not in my arms but in hers. I have never been the jealous type, but she is the only woman I will ever be jealous of. Because my best friend is hers, she has the best man on this planet. She has a soul that fits perfectly with mine. My heart yearns for answers, for him to just tell me he still means every word he said. But is it possible? When I lost him 3 times in one week? Is it possible for those words to be true? Can he love more than one person? Or am I an infatuation when times get tough? Am I just a figment of his fleeting heart's imagination? Can I really exist to a man if I am only a shoulder to cry on or one of the guys? Will ever there be a man who puts me first? When will I be someone's leading lady? I guess for now my answer is never. I guess for now I tuck myself into bed and pray that i don't wake up holding that hat. I guess I just live with the regret, live with the pain, and just try and heal slowly but surely. Let every note of music take away the hurt. And let my world slowly put itself back together. He will always be a part of me. He will always remind me of a past I could not make a future. I am done fighting, I'm done losing, and I'm done waking up to a tear stained pillow and a room filled with shattered dreams. I am alone. I am free. I am me.