done with the violence
done with the pain
done with the same shame
over and
over and over
again

done with the accusations
and the suspicions
done with the same lies
in different forms
and messed up versions

today you said you're sorry
you said you love me
you always will
but who knew a love like this
could somehow ****
the passion
the trust
the ways that I
thought I knew you
were loving me the same way
I did
with my whole heart and
my whole life

my whole life
is unrecognisable and I
can barely tell which truth to believe in
because how can you ever deceive
someone who stopped their heart beating
for you
how can you destroy someone who
took you in their arms and
went ahead and said,
"stay here, you belong in the home
inside my heart
I built only for you."

done with late night crying
finding myself imagining dying
as a way out, an escape
done with blaming you or me
for the choices I keep on making
done punishing
myself for the mistakes
that you made
because I made the same mistakes too
as if the path to forgiveness is repeating
the ways we've hurt each other hoping
it will just stop to hurt
at some point

it's like you and I
Or mostly I
have to tiptoe around landmines
Afraid I'll discover more crimes
afraid I'll be in the wrong place at the wrong time and
careful I don't set off the time bomb
that is called Our Relationship

when heartbroken poets make metaphors
about wounds and battle scars
I wonder where mine are
because I've been through this same war
fought it and won it and lost it
for years and years on repeat
and yet I have no marks to prove it
so maybe not every victory is a celebration
and not every survival is the ending of the story
and not every abuse leaves a bruise
and here I am still writing
wondering about my own story's ending