My Love is Tired

Our backs turned to one another, lightly breathing in and out, bouncing off the walls. You’ve done it again. Leaving me wondering where you are. Yet you are here, with me. Your presence not meaning anything.

My tears have stained every ounce of us. My body surprisingly left in tact despite everything you did to me. Your fists and your feet bruised and broke that muscle as your sharp-cutting insults pierce every wound ever created by you. Every time your mouth opens, another punch connects to my stomach throwing me over, bellowing for peace.

No longer wanting your love, because it is the very killing of my heart. No longer wanting to want to love because it has taken the very breath from my soul. Love is what brought me to you so deeply, embedding my soul in your heart.

Your love is what I have to let go with it no longer being good for me, you see? It no longer feels good nor does it feel right. Your love is painful and forced upon the sweet caramel essence that was once me. Your love restricted and beat me into a pulp, terrified to look at anything but your back.

I turn to face you as your breathing becomes heavier, not knowing what I will face.

For the first time, I see who you are. You don’t deserve what was gifted to you with an uninhibited passion and a canary-colored love. You are the actual emotionless Beast, Beauty thought she had. You are no longer detrimental to my everyday being and a life that was almost cut short.
You are my Past!

Is it Me?

Looking into the mirror and I see something different.
My hazel reflections no longer look so dull. My skin has that
youthful glow and I am in growth. It’s strange to me.
No longer walking around with my head down, thinking
no one wants me around. I walk tall with my back
straight and my head back in the clouds. I smile
a little easier, laugh a little louder and harder. I
hold nothing back, I give all of me.

My time in what we call life, has created what
some perceive to be a monster, but what is me.
When did this happen? Who knows, but I love
it so much more.

My spirit as contagious as a newborn baby. My
dreams no longer inhibited by the pain cause by
my daily struggles. I accept the things I can tolerate,
but can’t change. I am becoming me.