99 bottles of beer on the wall.

You’ve always been the girl they’ll find with tearful eyes and swears that nothing is wrong. Your face helps you lie. This ring that glistened promises and forevers around your finger has merely become a shadow. How can your wounds heal when the stitches continually unravel? Don’t break beautifully for the one who never understood the extend of the damage he had on your heart. Bricks tumbling against the current of his facial expressions; grins of mad-men pasted across his face are screaming sorry again. Ill-filled hand gestures and movements that are less than elegant. Two hundred sorries and a story pouring from his empty beer bottles that he’s been trying to pass on.

Don’t fall for it again and again and again.

You’re out of ways to convince your heart to beat for him. Never anticipated for anyone to grasp the idea of being so deeply attached to a mere illusion of being held by hands that never kept you together. It’s useless. He’s cracked every smile you’ve ever possessed like smashing porcelain dolls against disheartened pavement while the world just passes by, crushing the pieces to dust.

Don’t let him kill you over and over and over.

There’s dirtiest of secrets and silence clawing its way out of your skin. Unwrap it and take back the reins. Surrender all things polished. You’re not his floormat girl. And remember, you need to get this anger out of your head before it crawls its way into your heart. It’s okay that you’ve lost the ability to hide behind pink erasers and white concealing liquid, this notebook has reached its end anyway.

It’s good-bye this time.

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2 thoughts on “99 bottles of beer on the wall.

  1. This writing should be in the form of a poem. It is deep, dark and compelling. You are a writer with depths yet to be discovered.

  2. Very good writing. My mother told me her story and I can understand what you wrote… Not easy to say good bye and move forward in order to be a better person.

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