I told you things I’ve never said aloud.
I told you of the procession of men in my past who have left me -
Scattered pieces of myself, crushed like glass,
Crushed like a little girl whose daddy walked away,
Crushed like a woman whose brother never called,
Crushed like a lover who wasn’t enough,
Never enough, never worth the fight.
And as you held me and flicked my tear-soaked cheeks and said,
“I know, but I’m here now.”
I should have seen, in that moment,
Nothing would be different.
You could only continue the traditions of your predecessors.
Knowing this past changes nothing in our future,
Your sutures were poison, cutting the wounds deeper and deeper until
I
Bled
Out.
How do you look someone in the eye as they say “I would never”,
Knowing that they already did?