(no subject)
My heart hurts.
I cannot find any fiction to escape into that doesn't call forward this shattered bit in me.
That doesn't wonder why I am not lovable.
That doesn't remember when I used to be held. Used to gaze.(Was that yesterday?)
That doesn't react with a strange knowing fear to domestic abuse. To control and chaos.
To strong women that stand small
Will I be strong enough to let you leave?
Or you could be kind enough to truly try?
I cannot find any fiction to escape into that doesn't call forward this shattered bit in me.
That doesn't wonder why I am not lovable.
That doesn't remember when I used to be held. Used to gaze.(Was that yesterday?)
That doesn't react with a strange knowing fear to domestic abuse. To control and chaos.
To strong women that stand small
Will I be strong enough to let you leave?
Or you could be kind enough to truly try?