burning poems

six

I want to write, scream and shout

Jesse has been quiet, she's being around just more quiet than usual. she's a very observant person that's for sure.

I know she knows. but she said nothing.

I know she's noticed my fake smile and laugh. she kept quiet though.

But I'm sitting here with this doubt.

I find myself wondering if she truly didn't care anymore.

I don't blame her, if I was in her shoes. I wouldn't want to be around me too. I would have ran miles and swam through oceans to get away from me.

to forget me.

I hate you for what you've done,

I hate her for showing me love.

I hate her for making me happy.

I hate her for having a big heart.

I hate her for being so easy to love.

I hate her for being my comfort blanket.

I hate her for giving me the most precious thing in my life; Nora.

I hate her because everywhere I turn I am reminded of how well she treated me and her love.

I hate her because I can't look at my daughter without wanting to cry because I can't give her a happy full family like she sees in movies.

but that's my fault.

But I love you for what you've helped me become

without her I wouldn't be where I am right now.

lord knows I would still be getting beat up by a jobless man who claimed to love me.

if I'm being honest with myself; I can never hate her.

it's impossible.

and I shouldn't.

she has helped me become who I am and it's my own doing that I'm here crying in bed because of a man who keeps forcing himself onto me and leave like nothing happened.

she would be disappointed when she heard that the strength she gave me and thought me is out the window.

I hate myself how I found myself laying there numb imagining being safe in her arms instead of reality where I'm spaced out as he pleased himself onto me.

I hate myself.

not her.