When he says he loves me, a lump forms in my throat.
I feel the cold wind kiss my cheek and rush though my hair as I look away from his eyes.
I am incapable of loving, and to love is to be weak.
I smile and intertwine my fingers, not exchanging my love for you,
Because truth be told I don't know what love means
We stand there, emotionless, while I let the whistling sound of the harsh winds talk for me
You try to repeat yourself , I love-
And I look away more sharply and say I do not love you.
Maybe I do, but this new feeling of a respectful & beautiful love is different
I've been so used to having men objectify me and call me their Angel when I show them things they've been desperately wanting to see.
When your in love you feel it course through your veins
But how can my damaged slit veins feel a love I denied so many years ago
