he told me that my voice sounded like the chiming of church bells,
hauntingly beautiful and sure.
he told me that i tasted like the skin of a grapefruit,
sweet then sour
not long before i became tough.
i never knew what to make of that.
he told me that i felt like a rose petal,
soft and delicate
fragile enough to rip with the twisting of fingers
but strong enough to make it through the storm.
and through everything
i thought it was love,
i thought he took my breath away
but really i was suffocating on his empty words.
what i never told him
but will now,
is that
church bells scare me
i hate grapefruit
and i am stronger than a flower,
strong enough to survive the storm
that was him.