Requiem

Am I truly a good person?

I try and I try and I try
but each time I fall into the same patterns.
Holding my tongue when words demand to be said,
bottling everything up until I explode.

Every time I think I've moved past my scars
I find new words hidden between the pages of my past,
your stench lingers on everything you've touched...
including me.

Does being a good person mean I need to shut up and let you go...
does it mean I'm allowed to do what I wish so that my demon
will leave me.

Goodness is subjective.
In ones eyes I am good,
in another I am evil.
To one pair of eyes I can be both at once.

Am I still good if I give in to my urge to heal?

I don't want to cling to your memory,
I wish to rid you from it all.
To stop feeling so angry and bitter about your presence,
more than anything I want nothing more than to scream and cry;
shaking you by the collar until I see those eyes widen.
I so desperately want you to know how fucked you've made me.

My reality is no more.
I'm constantly playing pretend,
holding onto the idea that I was used.

Because at the end of the day that's all I was to you,
a toy.

I once asked you what would you do,
if the day came that I had outlived my usefulness...
would I just be another toy you can play with until I break?

Am I still a good person for wanting to right all the wrongs done to me?
To want to right all the wrongs done to those around me?

Am I still a good person for craving to keep others from your manipulation?
Because at the end of the day,
you said you loved me with someone elses voice,
and then threw me away once I finally gained my own.