Love is a ruthless game, unless you play it good and right”
I picked up the sharpened knife. It glinted and glowed from the few rays of sunlight that crept in through the gaps of the distorted window.
Blood dripped from my wrist as I dug the knife further in my skin. He had left me broken again. I still remember when his soft yet powerful hands hit my face. The blood had sprinkled then too.
Blood, red, gooey liquid. I hated it, yet I saw it every day. It was part of my life. The pain that envelopes me every single day; left me broken inside.
I loved him, that’s why I suffered it.
He loved me, and that’s why he hurt me.
We both suffer because we love.
Why is it tough love?
We're both broken inside.
Once we were a whole.
Now we are shattered inside.
This is a state of Grace, Love is a ruthless game, unless you play it good and right.