I was bitter. He was sweet. And in a parallel universe, we were bittersweet.
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We’d come home drunk and lie in bed, I’d ask what was on his mind since something always was. He’d ignore it until I grabbed his hands and pinned him down. He didn’t think I loved him because I always wrote about my ex-boyfriend. Truth is, I did and I do love him. But it just doesn’t come when you’re happy.
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When you’re constantly abused, you don’t understand how emotionally and mentally draining it is. You’re truly immune and it feels like you need it.
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When you always run back, they assume you’ll always come back. And guess what? You’re back because you came back the second, third, sixth, eighth, fifteenth time.
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between your arms
it was to die
to feel your warmth
the bliss of your heart
it was my life -
Love comes when it wants and leaves when it wants.
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i trip on a toe
stubbing the life
i used to know
stuck between this and death
grass which never greens
teeth which leave marks, greed
instead of love and peace
i transcend to a place of lifeless
the world i’ve always known
prune and discoloration
hatred and violation
i stumble between
leaving marks and scars
that only i can see
i twirl under the sky
wondering how far i’d go
if i could fly instead of fall -
I don’t suffer. I venture to understand it and when I can’t, I let it vacation until I overcome it.
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He was the love of my life, but life moves on.
