I never understood the phrase "if you love someone let them go..." until I was the one that
needed to be let go of.
Until I was the one drowning in our love, our unconditional love, that only
seemed to reach the surface when your hands were below my waistband.
Was I the cruel
master of our fate? Or did you really just hate me that much and love me so little— enough to call me yours and love me at night, but not enough to watch me bathe in the sunlight or dance in the rain. I planted my seeds, you watched me grow in my pain. I cried on my bathroom floor, too drained
to get out of bed, but somehow I let you convince me that it was all in my head. till it was too late
and I had nothing left, until my heart ached and I wished I was dead, because an early grave is
the only thing better
than pretending to be loved by you through every season and weather.
ANONYMOUS | About the Author
About the Piece: I wrote this piece from one of my lowest points coming out of a heartbreak that really changed my perspective of the world. I'm sharing it in hopes one person may read it and find comfort knowing they are not alone.
About the Author: I would never consider myself an artist, but I express my pain and anger through thought out words. I love to write poetry and doodle on occasion. I've always thought of myself as a very straightforward person who has a goal and a mission, but I find so much peace in writing and just being free in who I am and what I feel in the safety of my little green journal .
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