Wednesday, November 25, 2015

Marcos Alvarado

It was like having a show broadcasted only to yourself.
It made me happy
made me complete.
But once you left this place you left me incomplete,
nothing more than a familiar face attached to a box of memories
that sat and mocked me of what was of what could've been.

instead you left me with only hope
an empty shadow of what you once were.

And I'm sorry I didn't visit.
And I'm sorry I never saw you, the “real” you.
And I'm sorry the tears that rolled down my face weren't for you.  

But it ate at my insides.
It continuously grew upon me like some dark,
unrelenting mold,
that gained control over my psyche for the better half of a year.
So I sat on the idea,
and all my unfiltered ideas came pouring out.

and I was free.

You see,
I could feel guilty about all the “love” you had.
you and I both know how that went.
I would never considered them memories,
you just happened to be in the same room when those memories were made.
Now what?
I'm supposed to feel guilty for the loss of connection between us?
For the countless hours of nonsense talking that happened between us?
When I had to continuously remind you of my name? But it was even before the disease
that the expensive vacations were nothing more than a means for my mom to stockpile your house with gifts and presents
that you easily passed on to my uncles
or for the countless hours of hard labor my mother put in to make you life three times more easier but you rode her off as some nuisance.

One million times inside of my head I've reworked this.
And it never was my fault.
All the visits.
All the small talk.
All the stupid times I had to say bye individually as a courtesy.
And for what?
To reconcile some shred of a “relationship”?
But you see,I've learned to fix it.
Endless night I didn't sleep alone, there was something there.

I'm glad to say that now when I go to bed, it's just me.
When I close my eyes, you're gone and my troubles fade.
Better yet when I wake, I am myself.
This void you left,
this golden ribbon
cascaded upon a glorious box you left at my front door is still there.
I just fixed it and sent it back to the shipper,
knowing you won't get the message.         

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