Just another substitute

I am yours, you are mine, we are all but substitutes.

I read it in your face, the lies, the insincere words, the kiss u planted on my forehead out of guilt, out of pity.

It was a lie from the start of the evening, I know you couldn't stay, you know you wouldn't stay.

All your explanation and apologies did no difference. You were leaving, and I told you to leave without another word. I didn't want to hear a word more, knowing that all the words in this world makes no difference.

I didn't want you to see me break, not wanting you to mistake my tears as a sign of you hurting me, because you wouldn't understand I wanted to cry for myself and that the tears were for and from myself, not you.

As you walked out of the door, and as I shut the room door, I knew the many doors of my heart, one of which was assigned to you, was shut at the same time too.

I sat on the bed, and the tears came no matter how hard I willed them not to. The tears were a mixture of feelings; loneliness, emptiness and loathe. I hate how I treat myself, subjecting myself to expected disappointments, inflicting hurt and wounds to myself, never allowing them to heal, pretending they will go away, throwing them all into the black hole, wishing they will disappear, but all they ever did, are to come back to haunt.

I don't have anyone to blame, not you, you, you or more you. I can be no one's substitute unless I allow myself to.

When the tears dried, and the bottled feelings vented, I put the pain to rest again, however, knowing they will always be back.

Another substitute was found, once again, I did it again. Don't ask me why, I can find no words to explain.

I know he didn't care, not at all. In his eyes, I am not one of his kind, not one with feelings or thoughts. Just another of his toys, just a robot to perform the necessary and then forgotten. He never once kissed me, to him perhaps robots are not to be kissed, because their lips tell of no stories and speaks of no feelings. But, I am not a robot. He will never see this.

Perhaps, its intimacy I needed, to feel wanted, to feel loved in another way. If not, how else do I find the reason behind the things I do.

I see this as running, and living on borrowed time.

Please, just don't let me be blinded and keep on falling into this bottomless pit.

Please, please, let this circle around my heart, this armor enveloping me, never be worn down.

I don't know how long this brave front facade and the real vulnerable inside can struggle and when it is going to tear me apart.

Please, don't allow me to fall prey to.....myself.