My Pain

My pain is only a reflection of what I've been through holding tightly onto my faith in you. There's no other reason why I would remain involved in the highs and lows of a love with you that I have fought viciously to keep. My pain is only a reflection of the battles I have faced deep within my own self, battles that I had no reason to face before I had to endure this pain. My pain is a result of your weakness for truth. Your weakness for commitment. Your weakness for faith in something that was so guaranteed to succeed, even the odds were speechless. My pain silently gnaws at the walls I've built around me heart because the cement is so fresh that it hasn't even dried yet. And yet here you are, speaking of your hurt, your pain, your inability to sleep at night because it keeps you awake. Did it keep you awake and wondering around like an insomniac when she was naked in your bed, wrapped up in your t-shirt, warm and happy and safe? Did it pain you then? MY PAIN trumps your pain! My pain comes from chapters in my story, all mixed up in closure and recovery, healed and wounded again by you. That's my pain. My pain smells, feels, tastes and sounds like the syllables in your name; every vowel and consonant enunciated impeccably so that I will never forget. That's MY PAIN. My pain breathes fire at your pathetic excuses from heartache because my pain has been reused, recycled, reburned and rebattered. My pain has been rebruised and retarded by you. And yet, I should never blame you for my pain? When I made the decision to face the universe both fearless and filled with love. What kind of person would I be if the pain I feel let me blame you? You will never understand that this pain, the pain that I feel soaks my heart in its lava daily, always remembering that taste. That scent. That sound. That touch. My pain only knows you. Only you can cause this kind of pain. And I will never forgive you.