I cannot breathe. When she is around me, I cannot breathe.
Family, they say. You must make sacrifices for them. They are your flesh and they are your blood and they are your sinew, darling, you must pay the price for them.
I have. I hear given them my broken bones and helped them make a home from my marrow. I have lent them my broken heart and have allowed them to gain shelter between the places where oxygen is abundant. I have taken my dreams and put them into a bonfire and have given them warmth from the crackling of everything I've ever wanted. I have put a blade into my own skin when it has seemed like somebody in the household needs to be human enough and I have cut myself so deep I have seen what is inside of me and I have hated it.
I have hated it.
Family, they say. But oh darling, you must make sacrifices for them. But oh, oh, oh my darling - you must pay the price for them.
YOU ARE READING
Bleeding Hearts
Poetry"You either get it down on paper or jump off a bridge." - Charles Bukowski Just snippets of stories I can't seem to get out of my head. All cover credit goes to the wonderful @mydearcc
