2 She Still Sings

She sings.

No, not the kind of song you think

but the kind for only me to listen,

made for only me to grief.

She is talented

because how can one take every spot of your happiness

and turn in to something dark

by reminding you of your past?

Singing isn't the only thing she does.

She dances too,

draws, tells stories and disturbs my sleep.

The worst part is that everytime she uses he talents,

I am her only audience.

Like that opposite side of you,

that was made to never leave you.

She loves mistakes!

For everytime they were made, she stored them in.

My imperfections are her greatest strength.

She fills me with her being.

Regret is what she is

and she lives in my head.

Don't condemn me yet.

I swear, I begged!

I begged her to get out of my mind

and for everytime I smiled,

she would remind me of that thing or person I lost,

just because of my flaws.

I am tired.

She uses every medium to haunt me.

You just name it,

a scene in a movie? A particular lyric?

Just anything.

It is like a has the right memory to counter it,

the right memory to make her presence known.

Am I not her only listener?

It means she performs only for me.

I determine whether she is good or isn't.

Her awards are my reactions.

What would happen if I stopped listening?

If for every memory she presented,

I faced her and told her,"That was a mistake."

She would lose her confidence

and would go away.

So, I did it

and yes, she lost it!

Still, she won't go away completely

because sometimes she comes out again

and sings to me.

She is a fighter and I have to be a greater

because silently, in my mind,

she still sings.