Apology

You greeted me with open arms,

Happy to have a companion in this world.

At times, joy arose like a flame

That attracted moths with its light.

The image was perfect.

 

You would rise in fury

When the last of what should have been yours

Was left devoured

Or if I broke something by accident.

It upset you, so I apologized,

And then the joyful atmosphere resumed.

 

Sometimes, I get tired and weary,

And so I sigh to relieve the tension.

Or I try to defend my innocence

During a debacle.

 

That draws ire from you, apparently,

So you mock my voice,

Something that happens in arguments

Whenever I try to defend myself.

I apologize for my actions,

And my behavior is changed for the better.

 

The images of hands playing with its toy,

Disposing of its broken form when the warranty expires,

Violating me,

Are what keep me awake at night.

 

Your philosophy of being honest with yourself

Showcases who you are,

So unique in your flawlessness.

Henceforth, if I have an ambition,

A dream, a love, a desire,

A belief about a happening in my life,

I’m discouraged, for I am “delusional” or “pathetic”,

As that is not what you want.

 

I try to scream “no” to help myself,

But the word comes flying back into my ears.

Sometimes on repeat like a broken record.

One apology later,

One more “I’m always wrong” later,

and your back to contentment,

And I, delusional as I am, am losing a piece of myself.

So long as it means stability.

 

Eventually, the warranty expires,

And you dispose of me and my pieces.

Other hands try to explore my mind,

But I manage to escape into the open.

 

Those who try to drag me into the darkness

Claim purity and innocence.

I can’t attack them myself,

Not because of their purity,

But to preserve that

Which still holds me

In one piece.

 

The pieces, surprisingly,

Are resilient,

Despite hanging on to each other

By possibly a spaghetti noodle.

I find myself a little more wary,

But time permits me

To see the light of others

A little more clearly each day.

 

Despite the shadows,

I can feel the joy returning,

My body healing itself.

 

I’m not sorry.

 

 

 

 

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Day 10: Unresolved

The tension that existed between the two was a poison that, slowly but surely, corrupted the well-being of each soul. He, with his deceptive facade and false disengagement, and she, with her worries and unsettled ire.

With any other individual, nothing was amiss. The best that these two could hope for when together was silence in the presence of the other, alacrity and frustration aside. Whatever longing each one had for the other’s company and warmth was suppressed by the festering wounds of deception and resentment, growing in cadence with a ticking time bomb that would soon consume them both.

Day 9: Sometimes

Sometimes, we fall in love with a coward.

Sometimes, we love someone who casts us aside for the sake of pursuing something that is, ultimately, more attracting by some virtue of a deceitfully physical illusion rather than substance of the emotional.

Sometimes, we are betrayed by those closest to us–for, no matter how virtuous or self-serving their ambition is (especially out of “true love”), they will do whatever it takes to see their goal completed, regardless of who may get hurt.

And, strangely, that’s alright.

Because, sometimes, it takes these to grow into something suited for better than these troubles.

Feeling Thoughtful

Not every day is going to be bright and cheerful, and there are no promises that the next day will be as such either. It’s knowing how to personally get through the struggles of any challenging moments and the willpower to push onward, regardless of the bruises and scars received in the wake of it all, that help us gain the strength to see ourselves through to the eventual dawn of a brighter day.

Day 8: Revelation

“Don’t you see it yet?”, she screamed, “all this time, she’s been playing both of us in whatever game she has because it benefits her, and you’ve been too swept up in this little romance of yours to see what it’s doing to everyone! Please, I beg of you, don’t be foolhardy about this and get us both killed before we have a chance to act!”

Samuel stood visibly shaken by Miranda’s confession, ostensibly horrified by the things he was listening to at the time. His breath caught and choked his throat as he struggled to put the pieces together.

Day 7: Slumber

Eric shifted awake, disappointed to find himself back in his darkened bedroom. The dream had provided a feeling of comfort and relief that couldn’t, otherwise, be found in his regular life–particularly considering all that had unfolded back in the flight hangar.

Just a dream, he thought.

He readjusted himself in the, oddly, comfortable bed so that he might sleep. Laying his head upon the pillows, he inhaled and exhaled deeply to release whatever had a stronghold on his mind. All which was vexing would be waiting for him in the morning–for now, he sought to be carried off in sleep.

Day 6: Rift

The group of individuals took their places in the wide open room, as the atmosphere of the room settled into the regular hustle bustle of the class’s pre-routine. The room was alive with regular conversation, hushed whispers, and boisterous laughter. All of these things proved to thrive in a terrain that, once replete with the true spirit of camaraderie, lay in a fractured rift of deceit and resentment.

Worse yet, no attempt was made to mend said rift. Those responsible carried on as though nothing was wrong, and the rest were too wrapped up in angered complaints to take action.