I love you.
And when I say that I love you, what I really mean is that I wish I never met you. And when I say that I wish I never met you, what I really mean is that I want to punch you in the throat.
I'm sorry. Let me start over.
I guess what I'm trying to say is that falling in love with you was one of the most beautiful mistakes of my life. Your eyes held me when your arms refused. We lived our lives so intertwined, I swear we were fused. Our love was a circuit that eventually shorted out. But I tried to save us despite all your doubt. We were on the same path but my depression took me another route. I looked to you for shelter but you shut me out.
It's raining in my room again. My favorite memories of us are dripping from my ceiling. I close my eyes so I can tune in to that fleeting feeling. I love you.
But you didn't love me. With eyes closed, I could feel what I didn't want to see.
About the Creator
Caitlin Parsons
26 years old. STL.
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Depression
I’m depressed. And when I say that I’m depressed, what I really mean is that my fleeting thoughts of wanting to die have now extended their stay. I want to stray so far from the life that I have created but too many people insist on keeping tabs. Sometimes I want to scream in the silence that my soul was never up for grabs.
By Caitlin Parsons5 years ago in Poets
TICK TOCK
11.59. Even though the glass had shattered, Lorna could still see that her watch ticked over. One minute until midnight. Her watch was the only thing she had that she could carry. The only thing to remember her parents by. A birthday present from last year, the year she turned seventeen.
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