If I am a hurricane,
He's a natural disaster.
If I feel broken,
He must surely feel shattered.
Nothing is safe with us.
Not me.
Not him.
Not anyone else.
There is no equality,
balance.
We're constantly battling to be on top.
Nothing is sweet.
It's all tears and poison.
Addiction to the mess.
We're never swimming,
Always drowning,
Pushing each other under,
for one breath of air.
A space for me to empty my brain of all the poems, letters, and half-finished stories that swirl around in my head all day.
Sunday, March 6, 2016
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