Your eyes.
an angry red static against mine,
a blue ocean foggy street lamps dum blue tidal waves clashing against the sharp arched rocks and the rain stained cement
clouded by an artificial thing you called love under a smoke screen of hate.
It hurt, every damn time,
But my orbs remained still held in place by an awful fear you fed me.
Like a sinner clutching a bible,
knuckles white knowing all it would take is to release in order to reject all the faith i were taught,
a religious graveyard of broken promises and empty hope.
"weak"
This hurt more than the bruises because to me your words hit like knives against my skin until they became crooked scars,
a sick twisted version of myself I no longer knew.
God it hurt, or hurt worse when the words "it won't happen again, I'm sorry, I was just. Joking"
Slid past your smooth lips again and again,
lips I used to love, that no longer tasted of strawberries and honey on a Sunday morning or the milk and sugar cookies my mother used to make when I was a child.
A friend I once knew, a lie my "worthless" brain was, for once undeniably smarter than.
The thing that hurt most was that I believed you,
The forest of rotten hope in my stomach grew and swallowed my anxiety every time.
So many things I wanted to say but were dragged down my intestines by the toxic soil and dead leaves.
You rapist
You user
You damn abuser
The words you shoved down my throat every time you kissed me along with the sweet nothings that echoed in my ear created a barrier between what this sinner knew still clutching the Bible,
And what I knew I absolutely deserved.
Love.
