I sit quietly. Perfectly still. Watching. Waiting. Wanting.
What is a heart. What is love I ask each and every one of you? Please, feel free to define it for me. Speak your empty words. Your opinionated stories of how things will be brighter tomorrow. Explain to me just how "Love," conquers all.
Finished? Now it's my turn.
What if, "Love," is just Santa Claus for adults. Some, idealistic, fairy tail we are told again and again as children. A dream to look forward to, something serene and happy. Perfect in nature and there for us all. If only that were the truth. Remember how it felt when you learned Santa wasn't real? It was like he'd abandoned you, he was never coming again, it was all just a big fat lie.
That's how I feel each and every day. I wake up to my pillows and my sheets alone to comfort me, when there should be something more, someone more. My world stops for a moment. God knows how late I slept, I have no life since she's been gone so I waste away in the land of dreams where my life is so much more than this hell I'm living.
I had a dream, a longing that is, that my life would be so different. I was happy, and I devoted my time to a girl. I gave her everything. A story I'm sure you either think you've lived as well, or seen somewhere. Maybe a friend or relative, or a movie. But I promise you my case is different. Who are you to know me?
I had it all going for me. I was successful, employed, had all the support in the world from my family and scholarships enough to pay my way through any schooling I wanted. Then, I met her. Every once of my being told me nothing was worth it without her at my side.
But she didn't make it easy, so I worshiped her. Like a God, a greedy one at that. I gave it all up. Now I sit here, at home. Unemployed, with no money left in my accounts, and having flunked out of school for simply not going to class.
But she was fickle. Now sooner had she held me in her warm embrace had she then turned around and cast me out into the cold. Alone.
It's been what. God, so hard to remember because I no longer life. The days, they have no meaning. Ah, yes, 2 years and counting. I am literally in the same spot she left me. I watch. I see her status on facebook, and it pains me to see she's moved on. How do you do it. That is NOT LOVE! Love, is... rare. It's not something we all have, if you believe that your a fool. And yes, to clarify. I mean to say more than half of you reading this, more than half of the trash that walks this earth are INCAPABLE of the emotion labeled as love.
I've seen it. Failed relationships and melancholy romance. True "Love," is unconditional. The person you devote yourself to could literally take everything. Walk out on you, and give everything you ever wanted to someone else. Brea every promise they ever made, and leave you wanting to DIE. And you would STILL admire them more than your own mother.
That! My friends is love. When you have experienced that, you will understand my sorrow.
This was intended to be another poem, or perhaps a free verse look at love itself. Instead, it became my story. I don't care what you think about it. It is what it is. But leave here knowing this. Love is by no means perfect. And there is no unseen guiding hand, that matches us up pair by pair. I found the person I love, the one I know I will always love more than anyone else on this earth. Too bad she did not think the same of me.
And thus, she left me. Here alone, in the dark. Silent and watching. Waiting for the sweet kiss of death to take this sorrow away from me once and for all.
I've heard it said that it's better to live in pain than to no longer live. As for some existence after this one, I don't know anymore and frankly I don't care. I'm fine with vanishing. I failed. My time is done. If everything simply fades to black, then just, becomes erased. Nothingness. Fine. It's better than being Broken.
Because Broken things, like myself. Are trash. And it's time to take the trash out, and get rid of it...
I long for that day.
~Ventriloquist
Subject: Break. 
