08/30/2015
There are things you can't fathom about the way you left me.
With a voice message and an 'I love you'.
I could hear the uncertainty, dare I call it fear, sprinkled throughout your sentences.
"You know I'm not a fan of planes."
Like you were looking to me to provide you with reassurance that you're making the correct decision.
But I'm glad, in a sort of way, that I missed that call. I can't say that I would have been able to give you the reassurance you needed.
In all honesty, I would have tried to bring you back home with small words of calm kindness, pauses, and tone of voice.
And it would have worked. You would have come running for me as you always have.
But thinking that way leads to tears and breathless moments. Not breathless in a good way. Breathless in a way that aches for the air that surrounds you. The air of strength and certainty in a time where I have neither.
It's in these breathless moments that I've come to realize the hold that you have on me, and it's undying grip that has white knuckled itself to my very soul. And I hate you. Once again.
And I hate myself.
For falling for the same fucking jokes and the same fucking sideways smiles that you give when something truly entertains you.
I've done it all over. And as much as I hate myself. Hate you. I wouldn't hesitate to crawl back under your thumb and let you tighten that grip to unbearable heights.
But then again. I do love you.
YOU ARE READING
Poems From My Mostly Dark Places
PoetryThis is just a collection of things I jot down while I'm in a dark place. Not all of them will be dark, but most will be. That's generally when I'm creating at my best. A lot of them won't be very long either, I tend to get stuff out in just a few w...
