I Cried Last Night | Teen Ink

I Cried Last Night

May 23, 2011
By Anique_ThePoet GOLD, Indianapolis, Indiana
Anique_ThePoet GOLD, Indianapolis, Indiana
10 articles 33 photos 111 comments

Favorite Quote:
"A writer should write with his eyes and painter paint with his ears." ~Gertrude Stein~

I’ve been trying to dodge these tears for awhile now
Feeling cold and alone as I breathe with broken patterns
I try to save myself from heart break,
But the cracked pieces shatter and I cannot take it

When we talk, it’s not the same
When we touch, it’s not the same
When we kiss, it’s not the same
But it seems like fracturing my life is your favorite game

The arguing, and the shouting , and the angered silence
Drives me insane because I’m one to communicate
I cuddle in a ball, wrapped in a warm comfort
Thought it only satisfies the physical cold,

Not the chill inside,
The type I can’t hide
I feel like my heart could die,

When I cry, waterfalls flow
And the traumatic words play over and over
After all we’ve been through,
Our first kiss, our first touch, out first time, our first mistake

I miss how we used to be
How you held me, how you kissed me, how you talked to me,
How you felt me, how you looked at me, and how you loved me

It comes to the end of you saying,
It’s not worth the fight

Because you feel that my mother’s overreaction to our mistake,
Has changed the way you see everything,
The way you see me

You say you can’t pretend to change for our sake
Though you know you miss us, dreamed about us,
Then you take another look at us

You can only see my mother’s face tormenting your feelings
Saying that ever since she overreacted
We couldn’t be the intertwined people we used to be

No, you see
If you really wanted me, really cared about me,
And really loved me
You wouldn’t have let her come in-between

So I cried last night…
In sorrow that we won’t ever return to the days we were blind
To the days when we didn’t care what was right or wrong
And to the days we’d smile for weeks about

Living with the woman who tore us apart has put pains in my sides,
Has given me headaches, heartaches, and chest-aches…

If I could change the past,
I wouldn’t have confesses to her
Confided in her
Or flirt the temptation of even thinking of telling her

If I could change the past,
I would have held my own
Stayed on my own
Believed on my own

And if I could change the past,
I would keep a smile on my face
I could keep up my acting game
I could feel a lot more light
And wouldn’t have cried last night

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