BlameI knew it was wrong to blame him, but in that moment all I could do was blame him. Blame him for being interested in me, blame him for knowing that I’d fall for him and blame him for knowing that he wasn’t ready to fall with me. It wasn’t that blaming him made me feel better, it just felt easier to blame him than admit to how foolish I’d been. Falling like helpless prey in the night to yet another fairytale ending or at the very least that this white knight was actually just a facade for a bird of prey deciding it was time yet again to take flight. Leaving me listless and too delirious to put up a fight or at the very least hanging on for my dear life.  Because, I mean, what else could I do? I gave my power away the day that I opened up a little too much and let your energy infiltrate and take me over in a rush. But because it all felt so right, I followed my passions, abandoned my sensibilities and abdicated the tattered and torn remains of my heart just so that I could take yours on in what amounted to nothing more than a false start. Running full speed ahead towards a finish line that I was clearly never destined to cross. Yet, still, no justification for my disqualification made this feel like anything other than a great loss. I wanted you bad. Though I couldn’t quite understand why, I couldn’t bring myself to cry either, instead I just planted you like a seed in the night sky, gazing at you from afar, intently watching as you participated in the illumination of the deep hues that colored this newly created scar. Of course you had a hand in its creation, a gaping hole too new to understand its purpose and too permanent to forget the lesson that would ever negate its impermanence.

With Love,

Brittni Pope


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