i once was a honeybee,
buzzing softly along
to the rhythm of love songs
and romanticized poetry.
you were my beekeeper,
using me for my resources.
for the things you could not get yourself.
my honey was love and compassion.
in turn you provided me
with the leftovers of your last relationship.
then you were a spider.
every lie was spinning inescapable webs
of guilt and pity,
i was entangled at the center.
you feasted off of me and
drained me of all i had.
and then you clipped my wings.
i am now a bitter wasp,
provoked to passionate rage.
you paid your debts in my tears
and made me what i am today.
people tell me 'forgive and forget.'
but i have earned my right to anger.
i had to relearn what love is.
that was not love.
my hatred is strong,
but i still lend you compassion.
in the end you are broken.
because only broken things
can truly break another.
m.
YOU ARE READING
my letters.
Poetryconsider these letters to the important people and moments in my life that will never be addressed. (these are all old, and i found them in my notebook. i know they are bad and i apologize in advance.)
