Am I the one to be blamed when I didn't know you existed back then?
Am I the one to be blamed that, for a brief moment, he chose another over you way back when?
Am I the one to be blamed for not being able to get back to you quick enough?
Am I the one to be blamed for being so sensitive and all you said to me was, "tough"?
Am I the one to be blamed for the scars that you etched into your beautiful skin?
Am I the one to be blamed for the thoughts that shrouded you in darkness when I tried to lift up your chin?
Am I the one to be blamed when many others were there behind my back the way I was apparently behind yours?
Am I the one to be blamed when he overwhelmed himself with too much and turned his women into chores?
Am I the one to be blamed that he won't tell you the truth?
Am I the one to be blamed that you chose this combination of anger, pain and drama to consume a portion of your youth?
Am I the one to be blamed for driving you to be angry at me?
Am I the one to be blamed for you and your friends belittling me when I should have been in a blissful glee?
Am I the one to be blamed because you can't handle my words?
Am I the one to be blamed because you can't can't fly as free as the birds?
Am I the one to be blamed for the length of whatever pain was caused?
Am I the one to be blamed for the lack of emotional support that acted as our gauze?
No, for I have forgiven you and forgiven myself enough times to know that the fault does not lie within others but in their actions and the way that they choose to handle the aftermath.
But am I responsible for the pain whether doors are closed nonetheless?
For the pain is only as significant as I make it out to be: yes.
VOCÊ ESTÁ LENDO
Effusive Verbosity
PoesiaI have trouble with being succinct, or rather lack being succinct at all. Poetry doesn't come naturally to me, not usually anyway. In fact, I'd rather indulge myself in writing a novel, but there are thoughts in my head and feelings in my heart that...
