Break this thing called love

For the sake of my seed,
I loved you, but your love broke me
dislocated shoulder.
you said sorry, it was the liquor

I loved you, but the wall also loved me
because I found myself constantly slammed into it
you said you'd control it. and I loved you.
because its was hard being alone

I loved you, even when you said my scars were ugly
you forgot you put them there, but I only loved you
now for the sake of our vows

I loved you, and i walked on eggshells,
so as not to break your wrath
or even cross your path. but i loved you,
now for the sake of your child i carry.

I had loved you, but my child even more.
but you kicked our baby and she was no more
then I didn't love you.
and you broke me

I loved you, but tonight I kill you,
and I break this thing called love.

Comments

How to: Make Rice

As per rice, before the jollof Wisdom is your grandmother telling you to soak it for an hour, "experience" is your mother telling you to 3 table spoons of oil per cup, innovation is you using butter to fry the soaked rice first. You're welcome!

Space off.

We all need space. Just enough to let us grow, but not too much that you feel forgotten and left out. S easy to succumb to the charm. pain holds you back, and every night you're on your knees same prayer, "Make me bigger, my voice heard, a better day tomorrow". Tough night, tomorrow is the same, same fake smiles...but you're honestly trying but the scariest thing is remembering, fragments and pieces of a painful past you were too young to remember or know better. fuck this, another day ill deal with this shit, but when. All I have to make is a single phone call, get it off my chest, tell them that i remember now everything that they did, and you know better, but you're not doing it just for that. its because you need to grow . because maybe, just maybe the pain will stop and you can trust again, maybe even feel beautiful and carefree like you once did...damn! thats a long shot , but its worth trying right? but i never do, so every day i dont, a small piece of ...

The minds who fell out of time

To you what is life is to me where death awaits. Slow is to catch where the fire smoked. But to burn brighter than the forecast . A Sun sets slowly and lowly a fiery ball of doom. Steadily stealthy the night comes. Death awaits. But we are a people without time.

What'supReaders?

Search This Blog