what i didn't tell you.

aanika,


i know we talked about so many things 
but what i didn't tell you tonight
was how empty i am. and the worst part of that is, i think i almost made you believe that i could feel things as beautifully and passionately as you do. and if i made you think that, it would have been so wrong. but i wasn't lying to you entirely
because it didn't used to be wrong.

the reason i have been so captivated by the very essence of your words is that you seem to capture the image of how i used to feel things before my own ribcage hollowed out. my poetry isn't as good as it used to be, and for that i'm sorry. when i used to feel things like you do, i wrote books full of poems which a part of me believes you would've found to be so beautiful.

but one night i made a mistake as an act of desperation, and i think you're going to be upset with me, but it's not my fault because i was crazy and i was heartbroken and it was the only thing i could think to do. i grabbed every poem i had ever written in my hands and i ran outside and it was so cold. i went out to the dumpster by the street and i tossed all my words and all my feelings into it. and then they were just gone, and i never got them back.

i think if i still had those feelings or those words, i could tell you how things used to feel when i felt them, and maybe you could be captivated by my words the way i have been captivated by yours.


-christian