Blame Game by Simone Grier
I am a victim … of my memories. I smile a lot at what used to be. But lack there of has me crying in the blink of an eye, leaving me drowning in a puddle of how comes, could’ves, should’ve’s, would’ve’s and why.
I am a victim … of my dreams. I get so excited by thoughts of what could be. I come to the edge of the cliff, look down to find nothing at the bottom but jump anyway. Surely, it’ll happen just like the movies when Superman saves a damsel like me before I hit the ground. Alas, my hero must be still stuck in some phone booth.
I am a victim … of my forgiveness. I believe lies because I’m so blind to the fact that they’re lies. I shake hands with all my enemies hands as they continue stabbing me in the back. I even pull the knife out of my spine and give it back. Second chances are always my excuse as I allow the cycle to continue.
I am a victim … of loving. I dive deep into the sea of love as water fills my lungs, I blackout. Hopeful for CPR, it never happens. I just drift deeper into limbo as my heart sails upstream, left without a paddle. I dwell into my continuous heartbreaks.
I am a victim … who’s really not a victim at all. Most victims of circumstance are really fools afraid to be honest of the roles we selfishly take. Always laughing now but definitely crying later. Afraid to issue ultimatums for fear of an unhappy ending. So afraid to let go for fear of the darkness, afraid to be wrong, afraid to hear I told you so, afraid to be embarrassed, afraid of everything.
If anything … I am a victim … of reality.
I am a victim … of my dreams. I get so excited by thoughts of what could be. I come to the edge of the cliff, look down to find nothing at the bottom but jump anyway. Surely, it’ll happen just like the movies when Superman saves a damsel like me before I hit the ground. Alas, my hero must be still stuck in some phone booth.
I am a victim … of my forgiveness. I believe lies because I’m so blind to the fact that they’re lies. I shake hands with all my enemies hands as they continue stabbing me in the back. I even pull the knife out of my spine and give it back. Second chances are always my excuse as I allow the cycle to continue.
I am a victim … of loving. I dive deep into the sea of love as water fills my lungs, I blackout. Hopeful for CPR, it never happens. I just drift deeper into limbo as my heart sails upstream, left without a paddle. I dwell into my continuous heartbreaks.
I am a victim … who’s really not a victim at all. Most victims of circumstance are really fools afraid to be honest of the roles we selfishly take. Always laughing now but definitely crying later. Afraid to issue ultimatums for fear of an unhappy ending. So afraid to let go for fear of the darkness, afraid to be wrong, afraid to hear I told you so, afraid to be embarrassed, afraid of everything.
If anything … I am a victim … of reality.