There were always things,
that you could never tell me.
And there were things,
you said too often.
You told me you loved me.
Only so I would stop protesting,
your mistreatment of my heart.
And it worked, every single time.
You told me you didn’t believe in divorce.
That we would fight through everything.
How come you woke up one day,
and decided I wasn’t enough?
You broke every vow.
You broke every promise.
You broke me.
You said I would be okay.
But okay isn’t trying to burn
your body to the ground.
Okay isn’t trying to drown your sadness
in something other than your own tears.
And there were some things you would never say.
Like, I’m sorry.
You never apologized for what you did.
But I apologized hundreds of times,
for being angry about it.
What about thank you?
Thank you for overlooking the mistakes
every time you messed up.
Because that’s what you do,
when you think you’re in love.
I knew that I loved you,
when I started making excuses
for the ways you hurt me.
But I’m done.
I’m done trying to change.
I refuse to close my mouth more.
I will not try to be softer, prettier,
less volatile, less awake…
You cannot make a home out of a person.
Someone’s told me that a few times.
You wanted to leave, so I let you.
I am terrifying, and strange, and beautiful.
Something not everyone knows how to love.
Rome is built on ruins,
And it’s quite breathtaking.
Guess what,
I am too.