I sit here contemplating love.
Many times I have said that love is not like a light switch you cant just turn it off.
But there are times that I desperately wished I could.
Emboldened by scenes of eternal sunshine of a spotless mind. I search, wishing I could find all of the pieces of you that are weaved into me and …Pluck them out
Yet I find myself leaving these pieces of my light with you just to ensure you are not in the dark..
The appreciation of this notion is rare,
For my light has never been what you seek.
Nor do you see how this dulls me.
Do you know how many times I have tried to rip you out of my body?
How many times I have been left soaked in myself screaming for you…
It’s a different kind of hell when the antidote is also the poison…
The way you make me ache all the time.
I see it.
The devastation.
I have witnessed myself fall apart and scavenge for the pieces you scattered in the wind like they were nothing.
Like I was nothing.
Yet every time I put myself back together, I search for you. The thing that destroyed me in the first place, I am aware of the masochism.
Almost as if I follow the bloodstained footsteps back to you believing that this is the inevitable destination, that this is where I belong.
That I somehow deserve this…
No one has ever really loved me, even the blood that flows in my veins was not enough to keep me close.
I read books about love and find myself falling between the letters.
I think I might’ve felt it this time yet you have made it feel foreign.
I question everything…
Unsure of what I have become or how to find the pieces this time.
Maybe I was meant for this hell,
Torn between loving me.
Or you.
B