i confused
honey-dipped words
for unconditional love,

possessiveness
for protectiveness,

holding me back
for wanting me close, (as holding me close)

infatuation
for adoration,

and desire for devotion.

love me
like you really see me,
like you really need me,
like it's the only thing you were meant to do.

I look for beauty
even when it's dripping
in the corner of an alley
filled with all the monsters
underneath my bed
and inside my head.

I loved you

through the bitter

and you loved me

through the sweet

Pain's secret weapon
is numbing you
just enough
to barely be able to
feel anything,

taking away your rights to feel,
making you

pain's secret weapon

Pain is pro-abortion,

pain's secret weapon

I looked
at my heart
asking it,

how is it possible
that I can love again?

and my heart's
only response
was a beat,

turns out that
all along
I had been breaking
because I was still alive,
my body was fighting
for me,
even when it felt
like I was dying.

I can't seem to
remember
how it felt
to spend
243 endless
days with you,

I guess that's
the best example (metaphor)
of dissociation
during trauma.