I’m beat at the brandishing of broken bones.
Since when is this love?
Since the day he chose me.
This is our broke down love.
His father failing at fulfilling his fatherly feat.
He thinks he is a man.
I know real men.
Men do not hurt the ones they love.
My mind a mash of myriad memories.
The push and pull of us.
My desire to love myself first.
I’m trapped in this crooked life.
How hard the heart hopes for happiness.
I will never break for him.
I need more for me.
This cannot be real love.
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