𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝒑𝒂𝒔𝒕 𝒘𝒉𝒊𝒔𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒔:

I am scared to be alone.
To grow without your love.
So I cling so close,
please do not let me go.
'I love you', is the thought,
desperation is the truth.

Let us be better than our parents were.
Let us love better, raise our kids to be better.
Let us prove why we are together.
Not out of love
but out of insecurity and feelings of superiority.

I took all your emotions and I let them swallow me whole.

𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙥𝙖𝙨𝙩, 𝙪𝙨𝙚𝙙 𝙩𝙤 𝙨𝙘𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙢:

I ruin everything I touch.
I am not meant for love.
I do not deserve you, even though I do not like you.

I fall apart. How fragile am I?
Every argument,
every time mommy and daddy screams.
I feel like that little boy again.
In my old bed, drowning in my own piss.

You get it, right?
You are pathetic too!
You share such trauma,
we are meant to be!
But something else decided to prosper.
Your new found religious lustre.

ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ ʜᴇ ᴡᴀꜱ ᴀɢᴀɪɴ:

Alone with his feelings of abandonment.

𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬:

We had a lot in common
but I am not you.
My trauma is my own.
My emotions belong to me.
They are my responsibility.

And so:

Without you here, I realize.
At times I am still that scared, little boy.
Fearful of adults.
Terrified of having no one to hold.
Frightened of the prospect of growing old.

I was comforted by how pathetic you are.
It made me feel better by how pathetic I was, too.

But the present has something to say:

Learning to love myself is the only way.
Not through grace.
Not though prolonging my misery and pain.
I have to be the one to stay.
Always.

© DolorTheDaimone