There was beauty in the way he hurt me. So I found others love to be ****.
The sweet, sinful daggers he used to degrade me I wore like a suit of armor that protected me from the world.
Now I stand in the mirror looking at the suit made of thorns Tattered and broken To match the remains of my heart he forgot to take with him. I close my eyes and open them again Waiting for this nightmare to end. To end. To end. Start over.
Now I stand in my bedroom. I am naked. Revealed. Hidden only from the world outside these four walls. I closed my eyes, but did not open them, Rubbing my hands along the hills and dips in my skin The mountain ridges of scars And counted every rib that felt like bars Sealing me within myself when I just wanted to escape!
There was pain in the way he loved me, Leaving an unfeasible idea of me loving myself.
Cause every morning I wake up and I say “You can do it! You don’t have to conquer Everest in a day, But you are strong enough to get half way there! You can do it! Just live! Keep breathing even when oxygen becomes so heavy your lungs collapse under the pressure.”
But then I’m standing in the mirror. Or I’m standing in my bedroom. Naked and broken. Tattered and ashamed. Tears carve their ways down my face and each drop lightly pecking the upward pointing corners of my mouth.
I wonder if he can still feel my world shake. Because if somewhere in the world a butterfly can do the only thing they know how And create hurricanes, Why can't the slight tremble of my lips as I force them into a smile to prove that “I’m okay.” — Why can’t that cause mountains to shake And walls to crumble? Why is it that only I fall apart?