a part of me hopes you rip me open.
that you pull apart my rib cage
and take my heart right out of my chest.
perhaps because it would be a great excuse—
how am i supposed to leave you
if you're holding my heart hostage—
and that's all i seem to be doing,
looking for excuses
finding ridiculous reasons to stay
trying to find all the ways to rephrase
he's trying to change
that sound convincing enough.
i even lie for you.
i tell everyone all the good
—like the time you held me
while i sobbed in your arms
until i fell asleep on your chest—
and omit half the details
—it was because you texted some girl
that you had met on tinder
and you weren't even mad at me this time—
i mean, what else am i supposed to do?
where else am i supposed to go?
the one thing i'm sure of
is that i never want to lose you
—even if it means
bleeding for an eternity
even if it means
having everyone look down on me
even if it means
letting you rip me open
crack apart my ribs
and take my heart hostage—
even if it's not worth it
at all.
YOU ARE READING
thorns and other maladies
Poésieanother collection of poems. *TW: mentions of sexual assault, drug use, self harm and other sensitive topics*
