"As This Heart Decays" by Mahlon H

"Treat her like a queen." Words from my mother that I've tried to follow ever since I got over that cootie faze that all little boys followed. Growing up falling for this girl, that girl, any girl that would remember my name. "How gullible, do you ever think?" This would always happen because an introvert like myself won't be comfortable if they're complimented about anything, as if it were some sick joke. Kind of humorous if you ask me, but that whole faze would pass.

           

           As the years past, I slowly began to dig a ditch that expands into the dark abyss of anxiety and fear that will soon consume me.

Intermediate level with half thought feelings towards the opposite sex. "Do I even think?" Course not, don't think just do, be yourself while wearing a mask. They don't like the real me so be something different. Copy others, cheat on those tests, lie about your grades, lie about it all, lock away the me that I once knew, as if I even need him anymore. Look at this knew me, so strong (not), so smart (don't make me laugh), and I heard that one girl likes me (lies all lies).

          

               Now as my old self falls into this dark hole of despair, I won't acknowledge it, I'll let it bleed, ignore it's screams, let it rot. I don't need that sack of failure anymore.

High Level now with an understanding of the opposite sex. And I think now, I contemplate what I believed what was reality and what is love in the past. The old me is gasping for air, I can hear it's cry, I thought I got rid of that thing. Obviously I won't understand love anytime soon, but I fear I never will. I was with a couple of girls throughout the years, they were alright, for a short time they filled the void that I so foolishly created within myself for all this time, but something is wrong. I'm regaining my consciousness, I'm not the same, I've hurt those who have passed me by, I've ignored others, but most importantly, I've ignored myself.

          My old self has reached out in a desperate attempt to grasp reality. To regain control. As it rises from the abyss,   it's misshapen and torn, in pain, but denies assistance. This depressing, horrific entity is me, the years have not been kind at all.

At the last brink of High level, "before it becomes real", my old self and the new me have merged, by becoming this person that is cold and wretched. "What have you learned?" That I am comfortable with who I am. I no longer need love, no longer seek guidance through others, I want to be alone to embrace the hardships of reality all alone. "Won't you be cold?" Of course, what's so wrong with that? I've grown fond of the piercing cold, as if it were actually warm to me. "But now that you've accepted yourself, won't you want to express yourself towards others?" Only if they pursue me for who I am. I refuse to wear my heart on my sleeve, especially as it leaves such an odor of failure and pain. I will wait for as long as it takes. "Then you won't be needing me anymore?"

                                                                 I never needed you