just another side effect

searching the walls of my mind eyes closed & I'm shaking from the insanity collecting in my lungs
I'm struggling only to find myself through these tangles of fake up pain and sorrow expecting another nobody to sweep me off my feet
I want to love myself like I thought I loved you but how can I when I know where we fell apart; our weakest seam and I still didn't try to patch things up
maybe if I hadn't overdone each little thing I told you like the fists were my fear & I hate my life when sometimes the only reason I didn't fucking leave was hurting the people I said hurt me
I couldn't really care now and she's still spouting references to you, eplaining how she feels for him and saying if you were here I'd know the feeling
but I don't love you like I thought so why doesn't anyone listen when I tell them how much angst is curling inside me like a wild beast preparing to pounce; rip; destroy; forget
I never knew I could hate as much as I could lie and firsts I thought were always perfect, not meant for hate; destruction; sickness
but that's how I feel when I see your picture..you were never really real not even in my dreams but the flip-flop of my stomach as is cringes seeing your face is more real then I knew it could be
it's easier to tell everyone that I still care, that I miss you, but I'm happy because then they might not see me as crazy as I see myself with enough anger piled up that I could gut you
& this rage just sickens me because I don't always understand how I could dispise you so damn much when all you were was you and all that ended was a mess
but somehow all I need is your name cracking my eardrums and my nails want to dig into your face like your excuses dug into my spine
I can store all these painful emotions inside my ribcage, swallow the lump of rage in my throat,  maybe just another day I won't lash out at the rest of the world because I'm so fucking torn between myself
I'm like two sides of a coin & both sides too dangerous to let go I'm stuck between past and present and getting out would mean letting go of all the rage
when it's all I have to keep me going, the anger deep inside that I need to prove that I didn't need you to make myself strong enough to go on and be something
rage boiling up; energizing me like the sun to bring myself to face you and show you that you couldn't rule who I was or will be & I want to ask myself (what would I call this then?) but I can't seem to do it
the rage is just another side effect of young love and stupidity and I think that's why I just can't let go now