instead, it will make me write about you
until my hands bleed.
it will have me revisit old wounds
just to scribble down a stupid metaphor
about how you were supposed to be my knight,
protecting me from the dragon,
but surprise!
you take your helmet off
and you are the dragon,
and that doesn't even make sense,
does it, except the really sad part
about all of this is that
it does.
now how's that for fucked up?
YOU ARE READING
how the words come
Poetry"this is the poetry that has come from finally realizing it is okay to be okay but also not okay at the same time." ~ 'how the words come' tells the story of overcoming the aftermath of an emotionally abusive relationship. the book is separated into...
