Remembering You

I might as well say that I am about to cheat death for the millionth time. You see, I have come so close to the edge awaiting a fair trial. Always being thrown out the door until the next time around.

I am the second option; the last one they choose. I am a guilty verdict away from prison gates. But this prison I am in now has no lock on its doors. It has a repeated ‘hey’; that goes on and on every so often. This only happens after the first ones are passed up upon. You can imagine the pain I am in, waiting to hear back about whether I have hit my mark finally or is I am up for trial.

What happens at the end of the day is not one to tell you about. It is a night full of tears rolling down my face, in hopes that you will finally take this pain away. That this will be the last time I am put up on this stand to bear my soul out. To spill the secrets, I am too afraid to admit to.

Yet, that has not happened in the three years I have been on this block. You say that I am not good for this case. I am not worth the time or I am a flight risk. You cannot let me go because what if I bail? Where would I go that is better than these could walls? Where would I escape to that is warmer than the blood I have on my hands? Where would I be without these bars keeping me trapped?

Three years I have been waiting for my chance; but for these three years I have been not guilty of breaking you. It is you who said the words that put me here. It is you who should be on trial, not me. In these trapped walls, I am now afraid to break. It was you who said we were too young to know what love is. Except you chose the others first; they were okay to love. You chose one after another, but never chose me.

You looked for downers that would numb you, while I got the backlash and all evidence pointed to me. You looked for people thousands of miles away, while I picked up the pieces. You only come to me because you are terribly afraid to be alone.

You were never their first option, never their reason for anything. But for me you are my guilty pleasure, my horrible truth. The one who shattered me into a million pieces. Somehow, I was charged with a verdict of a life with a broken heart that can never heal while you are in it. Somehow, you walked away unharmed from all this damage.

So, for the millionth time, it is okay. It is fine. I am tired of never getting my chance. So, instead of killing me slowly with all this back and forth ‘I want you’ attitude; just sentence me already to a life without suffering.

Sentence me to death.