For a second, all I know is peace.
I’m calm, until I’m not.
Gentle white clouds turn cynical and grey
and anger pours from them
as they yell and roar, shaking the skies with their rage.
And I can’t help but think of you.
How perfect the days are,
then your outbursts bring them all down.
Rip the veil from my eyes
leaving me dull and bleak and sad and lonely,
A pile of disgust and regret.
You use me
Break me down then put me back together haphazardly –
or at least you try to.
Makeshift bandages cover cuts and bruises
But I know you don’t mean to.
This is your love.
You can’t help it.
You don’t do things halfway.
You stun me with lightning, burn all my hopes and dreams
leaving me desperate, needing help;
A dry, barren landscape.
Yet by the time you come to help me, sending your rain,
I’ve grown used to living without you.
Then you ruin me again.
You laugh at me.
Your eyes fill with mirth as you stare back at me from the mirror.
Enough
Enough
My ears ring
My head heavy
Voices fill my head rushing and bubbling
getting louder and louder
Stop laughing at me
Invisible hands wrap around my throat, squeezing.
And somehow, all the oxygen in the room suddenly becomes water,
And I begin to wonder if I’ll ever breathe again.
My hands shake as I grasp for the heavy metal.
Clutching my head, letting out a broken scream,
my rage comes out in a tidal wave.
Then, silence.
Shattered glass blankets the floor.
An owl-shaped paper weight laying among the debris.
A broken heart.
An empty room.
You leave me abandoned on the floor
with salt lines staining my face.
But did you truly go away?
Like dirt and grit and grime left behind,
You’re forever a stain.
Photo: Lachlan Ross on Pexels.com
