We may have been toxic.
But it was a toxicity
I could call my own.
Since I was young,
I’ve had a hard time
keeping things for myself.
My dreams, my ideas,
even my love
for the color purple.
These were all mine
at one point.
Soon to be
ripped away
by an envious, more outspoken friend
But this.
This toxic waste land of a love.
It was mine.
No one else wanted it and
no one else could have it,
The love I possessed was…
Unconventional.
But it was mine.
I was happy
being unhappy.
If I was able to argue with her
at least that meant she was there.
She was a present figure in my life
for me to hate to love, and love to hate.
But now she's gone.
I can't love nor hate.
I can't even have a friend in the one I loved.
So yes, it was toxic.
Yes, it was torturous,
but it was mine.