smacked and beaten, my feelings and thoughts have been for years,
but beyond these tears of despair and self hate is a small light of hope.
Buried beneath shit and bruises, trying to cope with the reality of my life. The way I walk and the way I talk....this isn't the real me.
Silent screams fill the dryness of my muffled room.
Each step I take towards the shadows places a distance between me and reality.
But you don't notice.
You don't notice that the woman you fell in love with no longer lives,
She died a long time ago after questions were never answered, tears were never dried, and bruises never healed.
Your sharp tongue pealed back my skin,
unveiling a creature I've never known,
I'm weak.
Falling to my knees after every sentence.
Thinking how much bliss it was to be in you presence
and how quickly things changed over time.
What is love?
After every raised hand, you remind me of how much you love me,
holding me late into the night as I hold my breath,
enjoying my cheek on your chest.
Just for that second.
This is love.
holding on.
Is this love?
