Why do you love the ones that hurt me. Why do you not leave them all behind. Why do you exaggerate my strength and belittle the bruise they cause me. Why are they weak, and I not frail to their faults? I wonder why you care so much what they think of me. Why you not ask that of yourself. And why are they so worthy? Why not me - or you - instead.
Of all the worth you see in them, did you ever find it in yourself? As you stared into the fire, did you dim your own light down? Did you scatter yourself along with all the ashes, did you bury yourself deep down inside. Do you ever question if it is you whom he abandoned. Do you ever way your worth to what he chose. Or do you reminisce the way he looked at you, and do you then reflect yourself in those eyes. Because he did not mean to hurt you. He did not mean to disappear. He did not want you to suffer. To neglect the girl whose freedom was his love. Whose safety was his existence. Whose worth was found in the lap that too soon was gone.
Love from beyond,
Carolina
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