Love

The twisted mind of a shattered girl.

“I love you” Three words every girl wants to hear, they scare me. Love is painful, not what it’s supposed to be. To me, Love is the fights at 3am; love is the angry words that drip venom leaving dirty scars under the surface. To me, love is pushing each other to the limits, screaming hateful words, than smiling. Making up. Angry make up sex, who doesn’t like that. To me, love is violent reactions and my trembling hands.  It’s the rough bruises around the wrist from his hands. Love is his tears in the morning light. The silent sobs in the dark of the night. Love is the pleading for forgiveness, to forgive and not give up on each other. Promise to change; promise not hurt each other again. Promise to fight less, to try harder. To grow up. Love is a painful memory, bouncing around my brain. His brown eyes lurk there and in the dead of the night I still call him to me. This is supposed to be goodbye, to moving on. Tilt your glass to the sky, cheers to the new, no more…yeah right. I’ll drink until you’re a blur in my mind, and then I’ll drink some more. When I’m alone, it’s you I wish I was with, your arms that I wish could hold me like before. Before the bullshit set in, before sex became a constant. Before the animal was released in both of us. I’m broken, and so are you, two broken pieces made for each other. Two people who aren’t good for each other, but are even worse for other people, someone who knows our story, our bullshit. My life isn’t mine, it’s ours. You changed me, broke me, corrupted me. I need you to breathe, but you don’t agree, after everything you say you’re glad it’s over. I hope it’s a lie, but I’ll never know, since you don’t speak to me anymore. I tried revenge, but that just made me want you more, and you know it. You know me, know how to play me, and you will never read this I’m sure of it. I’m 100% positive you won’t unless I email to you, which isn’t a bad idea. But that goes back to the stupid part, the begging for forgiveness I don’t need, I don’t need to be sorry for saying this to you, but I will be. In side it hurts me to write this, to even think of hurting you. It kills me and your fine with that…