seeing him was the start of something i never would have imagined. it was something beautiful. it was raw, genuine. yet it had also never been a more excruciating, toxic thing. we were in love, definitely. but love in time turned into a form of hate i never even knew existed. eyes on fire, they ignited flames within my soul.
i loved him.
and i would really like to think that deep down he loved me too. he just had a different way of showing it. screaming & fighting & glass breaking & kissing & crying & sex. so much sex. i thought it was okay. i thought it was my own personal heaven, until he nearly killed me; emotionally, mentally, but never physically. just to a point where he made me feel like i wanted to die. that's when i realized this was the furthest thing from heaven. this was hell.
& you know, looking back on it, i know i'd do it again. a thousand times i would.
after all, hell is where i've always felt most comfortable.
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poetic
Poetry(poetry): -literary work in which special intensity is given to the expression of feelings and ideas by the use of the distinctive style and rhythm; poems collectively or as a genre of literature. - a quality of beauty and intensity of emotion regar...
