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How could I be this broken?

You couldn't possibly imagine the emptiness in a being who put a razor to her wrists and opened her veins; the emptiness and the calm.

Today I was trapped in the calm. I wanted to die, then [and now]. I wanted to destroy the body I was imprisoned in, transform into what was becoming evident. No matter what it took. I was intent on carrying out my corruption, despite the excessive amount of mutilation or pain. But his heartbroken image stained my eyes, burning at the retinas. Oh the way he looked at me. The way his eyes glistened, and the hurt I could see dancing wildly in them. I couldn't breathe. He pulled my face down and pressed my lips against his, almost like he was trying to suffocate us both. I wished he would have.

But his love stopped me...

Love.
It never dies a natural death. It dies because we don't know how to replenish its source. It dies of blindness and errors and betrayals. It dies of illness and wounds; it dies of weariness, of withering, of tarnishing.

But this one hasn't withered. It hasn't fallen ill, or tarnished in the slightest. While it may be weary at times, and a little worn down, it is the only thing keeping me alive.

And to that I owe it everything.



Author notes

Samantha Marie

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Comments

1 - 10 of 10

  • Enrinye
    June 14

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    A very beautiful write, lovely images used...very strong raw emotions...great!

    take care
    Suza


  • DesolatELifE
    June 4

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    '. It dies because we don't know how to replenish its source.' - Very accurate. That's a very good way to put it. I like that line very much indeed.


  • hollowriver
    May 7
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    indescribable how good this is
    just know
    this was an amazing write


  • i love him2012
    April 30

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    woooow i can really feel your emotions in this you have a way about you that just caught me up in this poem....it was really really good keep up the good work


  • Fibe Kill-DFW Punk-
    April 26

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    beautifull, but love dies because people try too hard, expecting it too last forever. and sadly it always comes to a close... well, most of the time. i'm very a cynical perso, and im not really ashamed of being realistic... but besides that this poem was wonderfully written.

1 - 10 of 10