deepundergroundpoetry.com

Cursed

I am honestly starting to believe.  
That she either, intentionally,  
or unintentionally perhaps cursed this story.  
This tale that we spun together, two spiders writing  
the same web. But her's was plagued by whatever diseases  
she doth spread and mine was trying to fill in the gaps  
where her parts of the story lacked.  
When we ended and half of the story fell, I decided that one  
day I would salvage it from the dark depthes of Hell.  
Where she left it, to rot away, all of it's days, in broken hearts, gathering dust and decay.    
And so I tried to save it but ended up making it worse,  
and so I tried to fix it. But fixing it, like helping her, only made myself (in the end) hurt.  
And here I am, a year and three months giving up on the story.  
Just like after a year and three months, I gave up on trying.  
For her--  
For us--  
For whatever she was pulling--  
For whomever she was fooling--  
I gave up on it all and found someone else.  
Became a scarlett letter, with an A across my blankened name.  
And here I am, with her long gone from my life.  
But her memory remains, burned like the marks across my character's face.  
Here I am, trying to fix a puzzle with too many missing pieces to count.    
Trying to cure something that keeps finding new ways to be sick.  
Trying and trying and trying and trying, and it's just not working out.  
And so I have to get out, break my own heart before I get hurt again.  
She cursed this story, this story we once tried writing together.    
Made me create characters that I fell in love with, just like I did with her.    
Their sad stories, their sad voice, their tears, crying out in the darkness.  
Just like she did, playing on my sympathy and my need to help others.  
She cursed me.  
She cursed my story.  
My characters, she cursed them too.  
Told me not to touch her's and so I made the story anew.  
But she still found a way to ruin it, I know she did.  
Or maybe that's just my paranoia talking again.  
Either way, she damaged me but this story got the brunt.  
And until I fix it once for all, bring it's heart back to life.  
Save it from itself, and try one more time.  
Until then this story cannot be written.  
It cannot be touched.  
It's a twisted tale, of heartbreak and harm.  
Of broken minds and shattered souls.  
Of abuse in it's many forms.  
Of a rape the truely happened, unlike the one she lied about ever occuring.    
I swear, one day I will return to this story and these characters lives, but until then I will let them rest.  
I'll let them stay in their darkened place.  
And possibly, I'll shed a little light on it, chipping slowly away at it's darkness ridden plague.  
I'll bring a cure.  
I'll bring a spell to break it's chains.  
I'll save this tale from the curse she made.  
   
And once it's out of the darkness.  
And the curse's chains lifted away.  
The characters will be free.  
And the story's true tale will be all that remains.
Written by Page_Writer (Mad Girl)
Published
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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