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The day it all went wrong, and other real stories
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More like....
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Do you personally know the person?
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Do you personally know the person?
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Never again can I see you smile
Never again can I be in your warm embrace
Never shall I see you there down the aisle
Because never again can I say I love you
Never again can you say it back
Never again can we do what we used to
All because that stupid attack
It's so unfair the life that is lost
It's so unfair that you are no more
It's so unfair what that knife has taken
It's so unfair that all that is left is one empty chair
I cannot say how much it hurts
cause the tears are still comming
I cannot say how much it hurts
cause my heart is numbing
(Note: I'm not the best poet. The poem is dedicated to my oldest friend, whose boyfriend got stabbed to death on new year's day.)
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This morning you might have kissed your wife goodbye,
this morning was the last time.
This morning you might have ruffled your son's hair,
this morning was the last time.
This morning your daughter hugged you before you went to work,
this morning was the last time.
This afternoon you were supposed to be in a meeting,
this afternoon you weren't.
This afternoon you were supposed to come home,
this afternoon you didn't.
This afternoon you were supposed to be alive,
this afternoon you're not.
Today was supposed to be an ordinary day,
today wasn't.
Today was supposed to be another day at the office,
today wasn't.
Today wasn't supposed to happen,
today did.
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I'm a loner, but I'm OK with that.
I'm weird, but I'm OK with that.
I'm a bit chubby, but I'm OK with that.
I'm dressed in last years jeans, but I'm OK with that.
I'm good at maths, but I'm OK with that.
I get anxiety attacks, but I'm OK with that.
My skin may be a bit flawed, but I'm OK with that.
My freckles may be a bit light, but I'm OK with that.
My nose may be a bit lopsided, but I'm OK with that.
My eyebrows may be a bit bushy, but I'm OK with that.
My lips may be with a cracked, but I'm OK with that.
This is you:
A mask made out of litres of make-up
Latest fashion, to hide that you don't belong
3 diets to make sure you don't change one bit.
I'm OK with that. Are you?
Mod
That person is happy, right? That girl has her new life, and isn't it so great.
She had to hide so much. Isn't it so great how she can't trust people?
Problems got solved with violence. Isn't it so great that she doesn't know how to deal with her feelings?
And isn't it so great that the one person she trusted, she told everything, left her on the doorstep?
Her life isn't great. She isn't happy. She can't ask friends for help, she can't even ask her mom for help. Isn't it so great?
You left. Nearly 5 years ago. Don't think nothing has changed. Because that girl changed.
She got real friends, that don't know about the violence.
She got real friends, that do know about you. That you left, and that she doesn't want to talk to you.
That she gets upset, every single time you contact her.
Every. Single. Time.
They even know that she locks her feelings away. Or she tries, because that box is so full it started to crack.
And it hurts. It hurts to see it, it hurts to feel it.
Every. Single. Time.
Stop trying to contact her, because one day she'll crack. One day that single time will be enough. One day, she'll reply. And it won't be pretty.
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I found the man of my dreams, I love him.
My parents like him, my family likes him, and my baby cousin simply adores him.
So I should be happy, shouldn't I?
Then why can't I be happy?
Why am I asking myself "what would you think of him, when you meet him?"
Why can't I remember that you're no longer in my life?
That I don't want you in my life?
That I. Don't. Want. You.
This person you've become.
I want the old girl. The freckly brace-face.
I don't want to say "meet Mary".
I want to say meet Rosa.
My sister.
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After 20 years they finally did it
They gave my quirk a name.
A label.
That quirk is still mine, but now I can say its name.
Now I am one of them.
They who have gone before me
Who have been diagnosed before me
But let me get one thing straight
Today my quirk got a name.
Today nothing changed.
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"How are you doing?"
Remember how she always says
"I'm OK. I'm fine"
Because that's what you want to hear, right?
She's fine.
She's a college drop-out, but she's fine.
She got a job offer, she's fine.
She's turning 21, she's fine.
She's thinking about buying a house, she's fine.
Well she's not.
Stop saying she's fine
She's a college drop-out, and can't get a job for more than a few months on end.
She got a job offer, but can't afford the food she eats
She's turning 21, and she's scared out of her mind.
She's thinking about buying a house, but she's not sure she wants to leave.
She's not fine.
But she's trying to be.
I don't remember the day it all started. Probably one of the first meetings with the counsellor, but even those meetings weren't the beginning. Sure, during those they finally took notice. Of how that girl that was always late maybe didn't feel at home, and of how that girl that always got in fights maybe wasn't the perpetrator. Of how that girl was a victim. Of how that girl was misunderstood. And of how that girl needed help, but couldn't ask for it. Because that girl didn't feel like a victim. But you did. And you thought it was an amazing idea to take that girl with you.
That girl was 14. 14 years old when social services took her out of school and put her in a group home. Not with a family, because there was no place for her. No place, because she was dumb enough to stick with you. But you had tasted freedom, and you wouldn't let go. So when that girl moved, you saw the perfect opportunity. Come with, and then leave to never go back again. Leave the girl, and don't look back.
Never look back. That's what you taught the girl. And that girl listened. That girl made a new life for herself. A new life where she could say "yes, I was hit as a child. No, I'm not a victim of physical abuse." A new life, that was so much better then her old one. A new life where you don't have a place. Because you are a reminder of that old life. The life that girl never wanted, but is a part of the person she is now.
And that person is happy.