Angel With Withered Wings

whenever i want to kill myself, i think of the person who fought the hardest, whose teeth tore flesh, whose claws ripped enemies to bring me to this exact moment where tomorrow lies on one decision

i call her i

i, whose wrists survived the darkest days,

i, whose thighs took the deepest cuts,

i, whose hands wrapped around i, whenever panic comes knocking in public bathrooms floors

i will think of all that brought me to this exact moment where today is history

a memory, an irony, an iced sinking fist in the gut

I'd never regret the day I told you not to pick me.

I probably could never really capture just how much I love you, just how much I want you, but I'd never regret letting you go. How could I? I love you beyond reason, beyond fear. How could I be selfish?

If I could keep you, I would. I often told you that, and I mean it. If only I could hold you forever. If only I could be by your side until the end. If only I could be your happiness.

But I'm not, and as selfish as I want to be, your happiness will always be above mine. So no, I will never, ever regret telling you to not pick me, to pick her instead.

Because I'd never forget how you cried when you broke up, how broken you were. You were breaking right in front of me, and I know that no matter how much you try to reassure me that you can will it out, no matter how much I try to love you, it will never be enough to fix the brokenness.

Because I'd never forget how happy you are when you talk about her. Your face just lights up, that smile I've always loved spreading across it. My existence could never bring you that.

You are a happier person when you're with her, and after all you've been through, it's what you deserve.

You don't love me and it's okay.

That, perhaps, is my favorite lie.

Whenever I tell you that, I mean:

1. It's not okay. I want to be able to hold your hand, to hold you, without holding back or wishing it is not right.

2. It's not okay. My heart breaks every time you mention her.

3. It's not okay. Why do you keep running back to me if you can't stay?

4. It's not okay. I just really want to hold your hand.

5. It's not okay. I love you and is it wrong to sometimes pray to whoever god is listening that you'd somehow love me back?

6. It's not okay. You make everything better. How can I let go of your brightness?

7. It's not okay. I wish you were here with me.

8. It's not okay. I understand though - who would ever choose me? I am never meant to occupy a space in your heart as something more than a friend.

9. It's not okay. I've been telling you that it's getting difficult not to love you, but you kept me holding on. Why?

10. It's not okay but it's not your fault you can't love me.

11. It's not okay. I can't sleep at night thinking how you would go on if I leave. I know you'd be okay. So why am I breaking?

12. It's not okay. I know you'd leave someday. I've accepted that. But why am I crying?

Whenever I tell you that it's okay, what I really mean is: