A couple of weeks ago my aunt asked me,
what the first thing I noticed about a girl is.
The conversation quickly turned *****,
''you just want to know what they are able to do to you''.
I thought it was funny,
almost agreeing with the statement that had been made but then,
I realised that we all want what we can't have.
Looking down on my own hands for ages thinking that I wish they could just function.
I have been looking for the hands I have never had,
in the girls I have been debating whether or not they were,
judging my looks,
my shape and my face while other girls wants what I have.
After realising just that,
I decided that from now on,
I will stop looking at hands and look into their eyes instead.
Sometimes I miss you,
even though you will never miss me and,
I know I shouldn't but,
I check on you.
Just to make sure you're breathing,
posting and to make sure,
That I won't forget the sparkles in your eyes,
when you smile.
I felt at home in your arms,
and I'm getting really homesick.
I can't help comparing him to the holocaust
How he starved me from all affection, giving me small portions once in a while just to keep me alive
"You deserve this"
How his anger and hatred burned me like the fire in the crematory. The smoke spelling out all the hope I had
How his vicious words were like poisonous gas seeping into my lungs and killing me slowly.
He had me gasping for air
"Shut the **** up"
"You'd be **** if you lost weight"
"You're such a *****"
"You're so ******* worthless"
I have my scars but
Somehow, I made it out alive
Somehow, I'm still breathing
In no way am I trying to say an abusive relationship is as terrible as the holocaust. Unfortunately, it is just the closest thing my brain relates to my ex boyfriend.
Hope I don't offend anyone with my comparison
I want love so passionately that,
I can't keep your eyes off of you.
I want love so bad that,
my fingers tingle to touch your face.
I want love so rough that,
we wake up the neighbours.
I want love so good that,
I'd know you that you wanted the same,
so I'll never lay awake at night,
wondering if your fingers tingled when you thought of his face,
instead of mine.
— The End —