Holding On.

When I left you, they were glad. I took it and
took it, in pain, all those months and then
let you go, tragically, and my
family loved it. Then you were forgotten, and they
grinned inside, the way a child grins when
he gets away with murder and
fraud for the first time. They were over
joyed that your life was crashing,
your dreams were crashing,
your friends with baggies of happiness,
your thoughts, your spit out slurs. Would I take our
memories back, too, those lovely
nightmares of the 'could be', and those dark
kisses of a new life with true emotions?
I had told them it was fine, I was okay, it was fine,
until they fought me for our
detachment, Love. Now I
pass the boys that smell of angst at school, the forgotten
pride in their burning eyes, forever smeared on their
age distorted faces, the tears
from once true, genuine happiness, all a terrible love
story's tragic end and I wonder who took it and
took it from them in pain until finally they had
sniffed it all away; left standing still
in a crashing life.