oblivion | p.j.m

xviii.

I can feel it.

My lips wrapped around the mug,
My fingers warming under it.
Snow flakes had finally dried in my hair
And although I still didn't smile,
I didn't feel happy.
I just felt content.

For a moment when she took a seat,
The aroma of cinnamon hitting my senses,
I wasn't bothered.
Until she asked me why I was like I was.
Surely no one can be unhappy,
Surely I had more layers,
Surely a person couldn't hold that much hate,
Not towards someone they didn't know.

Why don't you smile.

I snapped.
I remember the chocolate staining the carpet,
Like a stain of blood spreading.
The deathly silence I wanted had come,
As everyone's eyes stared.
The table was tipped,
And her sweater was just like the carpet,
Slowly turning brown.

She stared at the table in front of hers.
It was the first time
I hadn't seen her smile.
It was the first time she looked at me
And her eyes didn't sparkle,
They glistened.
As liquid swelled in them,
That was when it hit me like a truck.

Guilt.
It ate at me as I look at her
And she looked at me.
The look of pain and hurt,
It nearly made me choke.
I felt everything at once as I stared down at her.
My anger evaporated as soon as it arrive.
I felt the earth seem to quake,
As I stumbled back.

What had I done.
I saw that one single diamond slip down her cheek,
Causing a small trail,
As it dropped off her chin.
I looked at the mess in horror,
Before I turned and ran.

I felt sick.
I was beyond terrified.
Because it was in that moment,
I realised why I hated her.

It was because I was scared to feel,
And she was making me feel.
The last time I felt anything,
It was wasted,
And left me with torment and regret.
But how I treated her just now,
Made me stop and vomit in nearby bushes.

I was exactly like you.