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For every breath of air I take inside, there's a little scraping that keeps my mouth wide, spikes in the air that scratch down my neck, and I just hope the others will just try to check, that I'm still breathing, I'm still going, for all I'm doing, is just remembering.
There are pains that stay with me, and pains that do not, for most I have learned from, and some I've still got, but the one that keeps me awake at night, is the one that I just cannot push from sight, the vision of my best friend lying and dying, asking for comfort that I refuse to give, because I wasn't strong enough, and I left him to die, I wasn't strong enough, to look in his eye, and it's left me with a tingling sensation of hatred, hatred for myself, not others, for I cannot be judged to anyone else, for the thing that I did, to my truest friend, as he held out his hand, and waited so patiently for his end.
Because there are selfish pains, and selfless pains, and those that make you want to curl up and die, for it's hard to believe anyone can live with the guilt, without hiding in bed and pulling back the quilt, but hey, I can't anyway, and for all the eyes that see me, they remind me of the last few seconds I knew him, and the second I looked away, is the second I remember each time I do it again. And no more can I allow myself to take eye contact for my trouble, for I will never receive enough pain, for leaving my friend, in the way that I did.
Nothing else matters. I don't care about all the other crap that makes people cry, and that, my friend, is really no lie. I just remember the visions, and I remember the ways, but the only pain that's decided to stay, is the one that I bought upon myself for the twisted bitter way in which I treated someone who needed my help the most... but I know he's forgiven me, watching as the ghost, fed up that I can't forgive myself, but that's just me, I guess, and he'll see, but I know he's somewhere, laughing and joking, hopefully not smoking, but that's up to him, it WAS too hard to give in, and that's why he lied, and that's why he died, and that's why I stood by his side, until the very end, and for that, my friend, is why I shall die, a lonely spirit, just like he, for if anyone deserves the pain, it's definitely me.
There are pains that stay with me, and pains that do not, for most I have learned from, and some I've still got, but the one that keeps me awake at night, is the one that I just cannot push from sight, the vision of my best friend lying and dying, asking for comfort that I refuse to give, because I wasn't strong enough, and I left him to die, I wasn't strong enough, to look in his eye, and it's left me with a tingling sensation of hatred, hatred for myself, not others, for I cannot be judged to anyone else, for the thing that I did, to my truest friend, as he held out his hand, and waited so patiently for his end.
Because there are selfish pains, and selfless pains, and those that make you want to curl up and die, for it's hard to believe anyone can live with the guilt, without hiding in bed and pulling back the quilt, but hey, I can't anyway, and for all the eyes that see me, they remind me of the last few seconds I knew him, and the second I looked away, is the second I remember each time I do it again. And no more can I allow myself to take eye contact for my trouble, for I will never receive enough pain, for leaving my friend, in the way that I did.
Nothing else matters. I don't care about all the other crap that makes people cry, and that, my friend, is really no lie. I just remember the visions, and I remember the ways, but the only pain that's decided to stay, is the one that I bought upon myself for the twisted bitter way in which I treated someone who needed my help the most... but I know he's forgiven me, watching as the ghost, fed up that I can't forgive myself, but that's just me, I guess, and he'll see, but I know he's somewhere, laughing and joking, hopefully not smoking, but that's up to him, it WAS too hard to give in, and that's why he lied, and that's why he died, and that's why I stood by his side, until the very end, and for that, my friend, is why I shall die, a lonely spirit, just like he, for if anyone deserves the pain, it's definitely me.
I read it, and I most definately appreciated it. Not sure what to add though so I'm afraid I will have to leave it at that.
Fook sake you good :)
Fantastic title as well ;)
Fantastic title as well ;)
For every breath of air I take inside, there's a little scraping that keeps my mouth wide, spikes in the air that scratch down my neck, and I just hope the others will just try to check, that I'm still breathing, I'm still going, for all I'm doing, is just remembering.
There are pains that stay with me, and pains that do not, for most I have learned from, and some I've still got, but the one that keeps me awake at night, is the one that I just cannot push from sight, the vision of my best friend lying and dying, asking for comfort that I refuse to give, because I wasn't strong enough, and I left him to die, I wasn't strong enough, to look in his eye, and it's left me with a tingling sensation of hatred, hatred for myself, not others, for I cannot be judged to anyone else, for the thing that I did, to my truest friend, as he held out his hand, and waited so patiently for his end.
Because there are selfish pains, and selfless pains, and those that make you want to curl up and die, for it's hard to believe anyone can live with the guilt, without hiding in bed and pulling back the quilt, but hey, I can't anyway, and for all the eyes that see me, they remind me of the last few seconds I knew him, and the second I looked away, is the second I remember each time I do it again. And no more can I allow myself to take eye contact for my trouble, for I will never receive enough pain, for leaving my friend, in the way that I did.
Nothing else matters. I don't care about all the other crap that makes people cry, and that, my friend, is really no lie. I just remember the visions, and I remember the ways, but the only pain that's decided to stay, is the one that I bought upon myself for the twisted bitter way in which I treated someone who needed my help the most... but I know he's forgiven me, watching as the ghost, fed up that I can't forgive myself, but that's just me, I guess, and he'll see, but I know he's somewhere, laughing and joking, hopefully not smoking, but that's up to him, it WAS too hard to give in, and that's why he lied, and that's why he died, and that's why I stood by his side, until the very end, and for that, my friend, is why I shall die, a lonely spirit, just like he, for if anyone deserves the pain, it's definitely me.
There are pains that stay with me, and pains that do not, for most I have learned from, and some I've still got, but the one that keeps me awake at night, is the one that I just cannot push from sight, the vision of my best friend lying and dying, asking for comfort that I refuse to give, because I wasn't strong enough, and I left him to die, I wasn't strong enough, to look in his eye, and it's left me with a tingling sensation of hatred, hatred for myself, not others, for I cannot be judged to anyone else, for the thing that I did, to my truest friend, as he held out his hand, and waited so patiently for his end.
Because there are selfish pains, and selfless pains, and those that make you want to curl up and die, for it's hard to believe anyone can live with the guilt, without hiding in bed and pulling back the quilt, but hey, I can't anyway, and for all the eyes that see me, they remind me of the last few seconds I knew him, and the second I looked away, is the second I remember each time I do it again. And no more can I allow myself to take eye contact for my trouble, for I will never receive enough pain, for leaving my friend, in the way that I did.
Nothing else matters. I don't care about all the other crap that makes people cry, and that, my friend, is really no lie. I just remember the visions, and I remember the ways, but the only pain that's decided to stay, is the one that I bought upon myself for the twisted bitter way in which I treated someone who needed my help the most... but I know he's forgiven me, watching as the ghost, fed up that I can't forgive myself, but that's just me, I guess, and he'll see, but I know he's somewhere, laughing and joking, hopefully not smoking, but that's up to him, it WAS too hard to give in, and that's why he lied, and that's why he died, and that's why I stood by his side, until the very end, and for that, my friend, is why I shall die, a lonely spirit, just like he, for if anyone deserves the pain, it's definitely me.