And there it is again
that feeling, that inescapable, tormenting
dread.
The quiet is a knife and my limbs are like lead.
Rocks in my stomach as air leaks from my
lungs,
and will not fill them.
I'm breathless and silent as the grave.
Waiting,
to be told that you made a mistake,
that it wasn't your fault
that it just happened
and you didn't want it to,
but you don't even want justice
for the things he did to you.
It tears me apart.
Heartbreaking
pain and hate
it's too late
to take back all the love, time, and life
that I poured and poured into us.
And you take his side
when I say how I feel.
You tell me
I'm overreacting

No

I am passionate
A man of action
I pay all my debts
and fulfill my promises.

And that's more than can be said
for you.