Beat

Beat dear heart, 

Beat, beat, beat again

Heavy on the "beat" like a doctor using a defibrillator on her patient.

Desperately hoping, praying to restore the patient's heart beat.

Dang it!! All i hear is a cardiac flat line...

The doctors said its depression steming from the need to feel loved, and the lack thereof from childhood.

The therapist says its roots are deeper than that.

All this heart wants is to feel loved by those who bear meaning to it. 

Sadly, noone is willing to go through every step of its pain showering love and reviving her back.

No wonder her words are too loud and her sentences too long.

Maybe poets are born from pain.

Sadly, she's no poet, someone made her believe that her writings are awful,

Something to be ashamed of.

Heavy on the "shame" because that's where she always hides

Beat, beat, beat again.

Beat oh dear heart,

Just a little longer till you find your resting place.

So you can finally retire silently

Heavy on the "silent" so you don't disturb anyone's peace. 

 

Here comes the end of the story she's been holding on to for dear life

She's not ready yet but she's not the one holding the knife

He is, and he cut it with so much strife

Forced to cry silently in the corners since a sound of her pain causes him intolerable guilt.

Guilt that he ain't ready to face or quit

So much so that even when all she needed was his hugs, all he did was walk away and resist.

She stayed this long through his imperfections.

Dare I say, loved him unconditionally regardless of the conditions.

But whenever she was imperfect, his love was never in sight.

So harsh, so mean, so rude, so demeaning, she lost the fight.

Its always visible in his eyes.

Never willing to talk, sort out things or sacrifice.

And its the meanness and ignorance for me that just broke the ice.

That he'd tell her straight to her face that he wont do what she needs

 No wait, what any relationship needs to survive; sort things out. 

For this fictional character, time numbed all the pain

For he would constantly choose to swipe issues under the rug than talk to his partner,

And yet any time he'd choose to talk, all he did was blame

Never taking responsibility for his part of the pain

Always putting her down and not once caring how he talks and demeans her self-esteem.

Contrary to him, time for her opened up all wounds. 

Too much time without communication, without love,

Yet still, too many wounds not enough time.

So she came to me and asked, "how do i move on with life when he was my life?"

And i tear up and hug her afraid she'll see that I too, am broken.

So she says she has an idea and im finally relieved she'll get by.

Little did i know, the idea was to end it all and permanently switch off the lights on her life.

"Life will still move on" she says, "happier and better without me"