My hands are empty

You had me wrapped around your finger from day one. Telling me things you had kept in locked boxes for what felt like decades, or at least that's what you said. Listening to you spill secrets from your lips felt like ripping open one-hundred year old envelopes, the pages stained from the ink getting smeared and the discoloration of the paper. Telling me your dark past gave me a sense of trust, and from the way you spoke I knew some of it was true, so I took everything you said with a grain of salt so that you had someone to lean on. You couldn't put your defenses all the way down and I was aware of that from the moment I met you. There was this point where you did for five minutes and it was one of the longest five minutes I've ever experienced. I miss it. Its one of my favorite places even though I can never go back, even though its less of a physical place and more of just a moment. I had experienced something you wouldn't give anyone else for a long time, I know more about you than anyone else, even your best friend. Sometimes I like knowing that but I wish you kept away from me, I didn't wish it at that time, but I do wish it as I sit here in the present. Feeling this way, with that moment of you spilling your guts out, I told you almost everything, 99 percent of me is still lost with you and that still scares me. You know how I lost certain friends, you know what I think about at night, you know that I like to sleep on the edge of the bed and you know a secret about me that only 5 people know. You took advantage of my thoughts, my beautiful scarred over thoughts and me knowing the secrets from your mind let you. Thinking that if I waited long enough and poured everything I had in me that I could fix you. Make you back into that sweet little boy who misses his mom, your hair falling over your eyes when you sigh so I sat with my hands full of yours, yet so damn empty at the same time and you just let me sit there like that. I just let myself sit there like that? I was so wrong and I find myself having trouble, even now, admitting that. You were my greatest challenge, my art piece, something I poured my soul into. The words I was saying to you would just fall right out of your ears, you didn't want self improvement even though you would sit there in front of me at that table and say you would want it. I failed you. I failed you in a sense that I couldn't read you, my gift of reading people deceived me. You were able to give off false body language and even though I can read you like an open book now what is the point in it? I thought that giving you love even when you didn't deserve it would help, smiling at you even though you ripped me to pieces over phone calls, let you make me sob in my bed for weeks because of one ugly lie you told me and for some reason I allowed you to crawl back to me because I could see you were in pain, different from what you were telling others, different from what you were telling me and in some sick way I knew you loved me so I let you burn me from the inside out. I let my friends hate me because I saw potential in you and you, you would sit there and just say you didn't believe that I loved you. How heartless do you have to be? You had to know, you just had to. I was always showing up for you, but where the hell were you when I asked you to show up for me?I'll always be waiting on you even though I cant even remember what you sound like, even though you'll never be sorry because you're not capable of feeling remorse. The parts of your brain that are supposed to feel those types of emotions is buried deep in a place that is so cold you feel like you are breathing in smoke. You blocked out the silence with echoing voices as you told stories that weren't true. You're a manipulative narcissist and yet for some reason I can barely blame you. Parts of me still care about you, but today I try to remember I gave my all and you kept me sitting with my hands empty looking for ways to keep you breathing when really I needed to keep my own lungs filled to prepare for the string of events that would lay out in front of me, but you didn't let me be prepared you crashed them down on me like a ship in a storm, except the storm isn't the ocean its cold. So cold your lungs hurt, so cold you get numb to the sense and tears cant even stream down your cheeks. You just freeze. Panic. Shock. Your heart is pounding but its getting to the point that you just want it to stop. But then I realized it. You wouldn't kill yourself for you you would do it for the fucking shock value, I realized that so i stopped giving you reasons to live. You knew how serious I took this topic but I didn't have it in me anymore, I didn't want to do anything for you anymore. Nothing I do in my present day is for you. If you were to show up I wouldn't let you crawl back for yourself anymore Id let you so you couldn't destroy someone like this again because if you are not chained down that's when you win. So keep me waiting with my hands empty and Ill wait for the phone to ring, not for you, but for her, but for them. Ill listen to your lies and Ill fill my hands with your hands again, your cold wet cement-like hands. Drying as to keep me stuck in them, but it wont this time because darling I'm in control now and Ill remind you every chance I get.