• They’re gone.
    I figure I can
    be strong.
    I stand tall,
    kept my anger at bay—
    guarded by my dignity—
    and take the first step.
    It’s painful.

    They’re gone.
    I think I can
    be strong.
    Am I right,
    or am I wrong?
    (Please let it be
    the former.)

    I can’t keep the
    tears away now.
    It’s easier when
    I’m with others—
    but when I’m alone,
    it’s murder.
    But I have my pride,
    and I’m takin’ it
    for a ride.
    I won’t let them see
    me break…
    I won’t let them see
    me ache…
    I won’t.

    I can sense the ax
    above my head.
    I can feel the hands
    around my throat.
    I can hear my stomach
    cry in pain.
    I can see them
    move on without me.
    I can’t speak the words,
    I want to speak
    so bad…
    because their cost,
    is so great…
    and I’m poor.

    Was it
    trés worth it,
    just to prove my point?
    Was it worth the pain?
    Was it worth all this?
    I love roller coasters,
    but this is ridiculous!
    (The loop-di-loops,
    the corkscrews.
    The ups and downs,
    I now do.)
    So was it
    trés worth it,
    just to prove my point?
    No.

    Of course,
    sorry isn’t good enough.
    And eavesdroppers,
    don’t help matters.
    So now
    they’re gone.
    Forever.
    And I’m doubled over—
    ’cus I just took a punch—
    from the realization.
    I used to live by,
    ‘big girls never cry,’
    but forget that.
    That was before…

    They’re gone.
    I thought I could
    be strong—
    and move on—
    but I was
    wrong.