After months of torture, of you destroying my self confidence - I have found someone who early in the morning, or late at night. Explores, in great detail, every inch of my naked body. He runs his fingers across my tense skin spelling out ‘beautiful’ with his finger tips
And even when anxiety is suffocating me,
With her crimson eyes and deadly stare -
Compressing my chest,
Till my lungs can no longer breathe.
I do not reach out to you.
Even though all I want,
is for you to hold me ever so tight.
And tell me, that it will all be okay.
I don't reach out to you, because I'd rather suffocate, than be rejected.
And I go out,
wearing a dress,
face looking pretty, covered in carefully constructed make up.
To cover up the soulless wreck I had become.
He reminded me how to breathe
By leaving me breathless
"You're really good at poetry!"
*"ha, I'm good at romanticizing toxic situations"
Don't know if that's good or bad
But thank you anyways
"Cheer up child" she said
But mum, how can I cheer up.
For I am drowning in an ocean of sadness.
For my demons have learnt how to swim.
There's no lifeline out of this.
My Prince Charming has become my worst nightmare.
There's no way out of this mum.
His once subtle kisses, had become purple bruises.
His once charming words, bullets in my ear.
I can't do anything mum.
Not sure about this
You say, that love is a weakness.
I think my soul is your prisoner.
And my heart a slave of yours.
Pounding, to the rhythm of the notes you play.