I will meet the love of my life someday.
When my ribcage finally learns
how to wrap itself neatly
around a heartbeat that has discovered
its perfect tempo.
Where the familiarity of home
warmly embraces the adventure of the open ocean.
My awaiting love, she calls my name.
All I need to do is know myself well enough
to touch her smiling face.
When breathing is a battle
and you struggle
just to rise from your bed,
know that you are opting to live.
When the rain tugs at your clothes
and your eyes are too talkative,
know that living is more than enough.
With lips like burnt sugar
and hands like sin,
he is the one dream
I am incapable of escaping.
He made me cruel.
When he tore my vulnerability apart
and replaced it with insecurity,
there was no room left to radiate love.
I stopped warming my own skin, let alone the skin of others.
I have no softness because he chilled it to the bone.
So when you ask why I seek shelter within the cold,
here is your answer.
Do with it what you will.
It is because he made me cruel.
I don’t know what just came over me.
Can we talk about—’
I raised my hand
to punctuate his sentence for him,
while my other hand
attempted to soothe a stinging cheek.
When he chose violence over words,
he lost the luxury of conversation.
And so here I am,
at the grand impasse.
the impenetrable deadlock.
They tell me,
make the best stories,’
but is it worth the story
when the bad decision
takes over your very core
and becomes inescapable?