Mistakes

It's a poem, I think. You guys know about Slam poetry? I guess it'd fit into that category.

Everyone is inclined to make a mistake,
But for my sake,
Don’t take back what you said.
If I were to peer inside your head,
I know I’d find memories of us flashing through it at the speed of light.
People say there’s someone for everyone,
I can’t help but flip back and remind myself…
The ‘someone’ for me I let walk away,
You disappeared and left nothing but traces of the pain behind.
I’ve been told to move on more times than my hands or toes will allow me to count,
I’ve said it aloud,
“I’m over it. It’s in the past.”
All it is are empty words, hollowly echoing in the monotonous voice I’ve adapted.
I want to feel the soft touch of your skin against mine,
The way you’d embrace me when I’d felt all hope was lost.
Now when I reach out,
There’s nothing but the lingering thoughts of you to catch me.
If I could, I’d pluck out the words I’d once cursed you with and weave it into what I really wanted to say,
To give the impression that I wasn’t angry would be a lie,
But it’d be better than succumbing to the numbness I’ve been feeling for months now.
You made me feel like I was worth something, more of a person than I felt I was.
And so I look in this mirror, the self-hatred I’d long felt boiling inside of me.
There’s a void, and as hard as I try to fill it with reassurance that I’ll find someone better suited for me, I have to admit I’m only lying to myself.
Beneath the façade I put forth, all of the smiles and pleasantness, the jokes and laughs, you’d find what I truly am.
Those words you spoke that day through thin lips and water-stained eyes obliterated me, and the pieces you left behind still haven’t been restored.
Everything faded away into the background, motionless pictures as the time you and I shared stood still.
She was prettier than me, smarter than me, maybe?
I’d cut myself down and try to be better because I just wasn’t up to standard.
Even if you told me I was pretty, beautiful, the most breath-taking thing you’ve ever seen walk the planet, you’d still go to her.
You bring out the worst and best in me, the most evil kinds of abilities lurking beneath the perfection of you.

So I fashion myself a scotch-tape like temporary fix, but when it matters most, I’d crumble like the toy a young child brings home from a bargain store.
I’ve been bottling it up for more time than necessary; more time than anyone should ever keep something in, the pent up heat, sadness, regret, and pain are beginning to shatter and crack me more than I’ve already been broken
I look at myself and see nothing but a shell of what you claimed me to be.
If I said I liked you, it would be an understatement.
To say I miss you would be an outright aspersion.
Slap as many labels as you want on what I feel;
Call it puppy-love.
Call it a teenage infatuation.
Call it the most ridiculous thing someone could feel,
But the truth is…
Even when you couldn’t stand yourself, even when I couldn’t stand you.
You’d look into my eyes, and I felt the troubles of everything melt away.

I loved you.