A love like my fathers, conditional and convenient.
Love that is distant and never within arms reach.
A fragile heart I hide away until called upon.
Used and discarded within the same beat.
Echoes of screams, laced into tears on an old pillowcase.
Tired eyes pleading to be seen.
A love like my fathers turns a blind eye to my need.
Ice runs through veins of strong arms.
Arms that will only hold me when they are at their best,
Not when I am at my worst.
My love would break bones, but his won't lift a finger.
Affection comes with rules, rules I struggle to follow
A love like my fathers is a little,
Or it is nothing at all.
YOU ARE READING
Letters I'll Never Send
PoésieA simple letter can convey so much emotion, too bad no one will ever receive them