My night hath fallen long ago. I don’t know why I even dare to hope anymore. I look to you, you’re not much help. always telling me about how cruel this world has been to you, how hard it has been to survive. It’s been hard for me too, but you don’t want to hear. You are the abused one, you are the victim, not me.
Do you even care I still cry at night? That the nightmares still haunt me as I sleep? Over and over again I hear the sick sounds of fleash on fleash. Over and over I watch my friends fall dead. I still see the face of my two closest friends as I walk in on their bodies hanging from the school bathroom stalls. Sucide. You don’t listen. You say you love me, but why can’t you hear me?
Yes, maybe your life has been hard, but I wait your demons through, battle them out for you, destory them, yet cannot face my own. Why won’t you help? Can you not accpet that I was beaten? Can you not accept my life may have had a sicker twist then yours? I remember the night I told you I was raped, I came home unable to cry, feeling hollow. Did you offer me help, soft words of care? No. You, in fact, told me to “Shut up, tell you NO more.” I needed you, and you looked right in my face and walked away, even joked about it after bitching on how it ruined your day, your year. I’m sorry my life has done this, I didn’t mean to let it, but you said I should come to you…. And you hurt me more.
So, why, WHY do I stay so near to you? So close? Why do I cry for you at night, when I know I, myself, haven’t slept in almost a week. Why do I offer to fight your battles, when I can’t win my own? Is this what they call love, this one sided death trap? I look more and more haggard ever morning as I face myself in the mirror, unable to meet my own eyes as I realize it in my gut. I’m being used. But I won’t face it. You’re only toying with me, but I can’t believe it. All my good sence says to back away, but I already need you. You, my friend, my lover, the person who braved my ice cold waters to find the warmth inside…. Only to steal it away. Why do you hurt me? What did I ever do to you? It’s so hard to believe that I’m getting screwed over. All my life, I’ve been abused…. And why….. WHY does the one thing I love have to use me too.
I’ve tried time and time again, but I can’t let you go. It’s like I’m stuck in some kinda sick web, only digging myself in more as I stuggle. Hearing those whispered, “I love you”s and feeling the chills from your words. But is that all they are…..words? I can’t even ask you this, for you claim I have no trust. I do trust you, i DO. And maybe that’s the problem. Maybe I’m afraid you’ll leave….. or cheat. So here I am, going in circles, knowing I should leave, but crawling back before I even reach the door. When did I get so weak? What happened to the Ice Princess, the btch no one could touch. The cold hearted girl with a taste for revenge and a black soul. What did you do to me? How did you do it? You call yourself the “Master of Puppets”… I fear I’m yet another puppet for you to play with. You moving in as you see the time, and knocking down another wall, saying it’s to be closer to me, as you slowly pull my strings so I’m in a yet more painful pose. And I try to smile through the tears, thinking I must hurt to heal, and you give my strings another slight yank.
So I am but a Puppet, at your comand, pull me, shape me, use me through. The strings are to strong for me to break, your control to far into mastery for me to understand. Yet inside I’m hollowing out, I’m being used up. Will you leave me to die once I have nothing left to give to you? Throw me into the streets with one last trick, one last lie for me to believe. I love you. Pull my strings a little harder, don’t let me see what you are, let me believe that you really do need me. Let me have that. Use that charm, blind me to your evils, sheild me from the truth of what you’re doing to me. I love you. It hurts my heart to see, and I won’t see much longer. So I will now sit, and beileve in you, and when you leave, I will die. I gave my all to you, and got nothing back. I’m empty, and you are the only thing that keeps me moving. So when I die, I will leave note by me, asking for the words ‘Puppet’ on my grave. And maybe upon seeing it, you will know I knew, and know you killed me. And maybe I can save someone else from this fate, or maybe, I will be one more thing to add to your list of hardships. A girlfriend who killed herself. Her strings broke. You broke her when she became old, but you’ll never say it. You’ll just fashion a new puppet and pose it as well. But maybe I will haunt your nightmares, maybe you will hear my voice calling out to you for help, whispering that I love you. And you can use that for your new toy
My night hath fallen long ago. I don’t know why I even dare to hope anymore. I look to you, you’re not much help. always telling me about how cruel this world has been to you, how hard it has been to survive. It’s been hard for me too, but you don’t want to hear. You are the abused one, you are the victim, not me. And so you are, a victim of your own life.