a tragedy of some kind

the twenty-ninth day of february

"...though she had not had the strength to shake off the spell that bound her to him she had lost all spontaneity of feeling, and seemed to herself to be passively awaiting a fate she could not avert." ~ Edith Wharton

I try so hard,

to ignore their cries.

I really do.

I swear.

Cross the hole,

where my heart once was,

and hope to die.

The whispers are getting louder,

becoming murmurs,

that slowly,

grow to shouts.

How can I ignore them?

It drowns out everything else.

Seventeen,

for all the months I've known you,

for all the years I've lived,

for all the years you have too.

All lined up,

in perfect little rows.

My final act,

Filled with the rebellion of my youth,

though I'm not yet old,

I still feel,

weary beyond my years.

As if I have lived all my days,

and now,

I stand on the edge,

on the precipe,

of my life,

looking back,

reveling in the days,

the ones before you,

the ones,

where,

I was free.

Cursing the days of us,

cursing them to hell,

because,

I loved every minute.

What will you do Logan?

When you find out,

I'm gone.

Nothing probably.

But heres me,

holding out hope,

that a little of us,

still remains within you,

like my heart.

Thief.

But maybe,

just maybe,

your hurting as much as I am.

Perhaps there is a reason,

for your walking away,

one can only hope.

What a fucking fool,

shame on me.

Here I am,

standing alone.

the feeling of a crushing weight,

upon my weakened shoulders,

of the inevitable oblivion.

The feeling of breathing,

and nothing filling my lungs.

Feeling as if I am drowning,

and my erratic grasping for air,

are all that stands,

between now and then.

The ever present,

looming shadow of then.

Of what comes next.

The feeling of watching a building

burn,

Excruciatingly slow,

and there is nothing I can do.

And yet,

after enduring this torture,

standing here,

feeling all this pain,

both mine and yours,

so you don't have to suffer at all.

I'm still excusing all that you've done.

Defending your actions.

In the absurd hope,

you will realise your mistake,

and come running back

on your knees,

begging for my forgiveness.

Which I would not give.

Will you notice Logan,

When I'm gone?

I suppose not.

It is deafening,

their shouting,

I cannot ignore it any longer.

"Goodbye" I whisper.

Only the silence breathes.

I laugh,

madly.

As though I could expect,

an answer.

Least of all from you.

I wonder,

who it will be,

that has the unfortunate luck,

to find me.

I can only wish,

that it would be you.

So finally,

you could see,

the damage you inflicted.

I guess I'll die,

the age of the dancing queen,

no longer dancing,

with no one holding me

-Delilah