literature

Why Can't You Tell?

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Literature Text

Can't you tell I'm empty?

I thought, long ago, that you broke my heart. But you didn't. You stole it away. You stole my heart, and the silence of its non-beating is terrible to behold. There's nothing left inside now. No heart, no soul, nothing. Just flesh and bones, a smiling shell. Gaping and empty.

Can't you realise I'm lying?

I don't mean the words that slip from my lips. I wish you well, wish you the best, wish you happiness without me. But that's all just what you want to hear. I'm telling you these things to make you love me, even though you never will, no matter how much much time I spend lying.

Can't you see I'm broken?

Shattered into a billion pieces, struggling to pick them up with bleeding hands. Can't you see, while you're out saving the world, that's I'm here trying to survive? You help fix everyone else - why can't you take the moment needed to fix me? All it takes is three words. But you won't say them, and so I stay broken.

Can't you hear I'm screaming?

The sound is overwhelming in my ears, as I watch you smile, listen to you laugh. Happiness comes so easily to you, and I wish I could know what it must be like. I thought that being near you - hope and pain, tied together in a way no one else seems to understand - I thought that this feeling was happiness. But it's not, is it? It's just the pain, and the only way I know to distract myself is to keep on screaming.

Can't you tell I'm dying?

You are my sun, my rain, the air I breath. Without you I'm fading, wilting, suffocating. Won't you sit with me? Just one more time? Will you grab my hand if start I float away into nothingness? Would you hold me as I lay dying?
The pain of having someone break up with you is not the worst pain you'll ever feel, but it is a unique pain. A pain not quite comparable to any thing else. Knowing you have felt worst pain - that you have survived worse pain - is not a comfort. 
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