It’s your tears that follow because it is real for you, and a game to them. A source of entertainment. It’s the pieces I see your heart break into because you give your everything to people who have absolutely no idea how priceless and precious it is… that’s why I get angry.
It’s the sleepless nights you face, questioning yourself as anything short of wonderous, glorious, and giving. It’s the hours I see you waste away thinking about what went wrong. It’s the hoops I see you jump through for the scraps of their attention. It’s the love you pour out to them that they cast aside as fodder.
It boils my blood not only because I see it’s value, but because it was me… I did these things to you as well and it sickens me to my core. That’s why I get angry.
I watch, as day in and day out they play the game, pushing just the right buttons, carefully making just the right moves, to play you like a marionette. All I can do is watch. All I can do is hope that maybe this time, I am wrong. Surely this one will see you for the treasure you are. Beyond his own needs, beyond base desires.
All that and more is why I get angry. Because for you, there is little I would not do… and all the things I wish I had done. That is why I get angry… My enduring longing, my love, for you.
Vanselarion's Poetry 