Where does it end?

IMG_6248.JPGExactly One Saturday ago, I couldn’t sleep.

My heart was restless.

You’d only left to go home across the road,

But I just couldn’t deal with it.

It was around 2am when you called.

Your voice made me somersault,

Many times over.

If I could, I would’ve married you right There.

Earlier that day, evening and night,

Were truly the best of my life.

Up until that Friday,

There wasn’t a single being –

Human or Animal,

Who made me feel so incredibly Whole.

I thanked God with every word I know.

And While I massaged your body,

As clichèd as it may sound,

I touched my head to your feet.

I had your answer.

To be your wife.

To carry your name, to nourish your every need.

All our doubts subsided in your arms.

And You showed me what I thought I’d lost.

Your tenderness, your kind heart.

Witty, Handsome, Strong.

The very things I fell in love with you for,

I’d decided; it was done.

But Little did I know,

That This was in fact the same old dance,

Only this time, to a different tune.

And like clockwork, at the beat,

Saturday arrived.

And you turned cold,

Typically Familiar.

Yet, Warmed by the incredible Love

We shared just the day before,

I Began selling to myself –

My fault, I “don’t know how to talk.”

My fault, I “don’t know what to talk.”

I agreed with you; And Your storm disappeared.

We sailed through the day and then another.

“Ambitious Bitch”

Little did I know,

Tuesday evening Would bring with it

Your summer storm so strong,

That The first time you struck my face,

I wanted to scream.

More, when you grabbed my face.

Your fingernails dug deep.

My face still sore from the many times

You bit me while making love.

The first time you spat at me,

it carried with it,

the fragrance of your lips,

But stung like acid.

For 3 hours,

My heart bled.

Run over each time you –

slapped me.

burnt each time you –

spat at me,

Crumbled  each time I –

saw the lips that

kissed me so tenderly,

call me a whore, cunt, ambitious bitch.

We died.

Each time you humiliated our love in full public view.

Girls dream of walking hand-in-hand with the Love of their Life.

Of being held, protected, loved.

I just stood there, outside a busy shop, on a busy street.

As you spat at me, dug deep into my face, afraid, detested by you.

Am I wrong when I said

You strung me along ?

When just two days before then,

you led me to believe, led us to believe,

You loved me, You loved us.

As you humiliated me,

Did you once think of how much we laughed?

Did you once think of how much we hugged?

Did you once think of how happy we were?

Did you once think of anyone but yourself?

Did you think of us?

Of the life we built?

But Do you ever think of us?

You spat at me, as you proceeded to

berate my family, upheld yours.

You hit me, as you proceeded to

shame me, my body, my past loves.

You spat at me again, as you proceeded to

show me my place, how hurt you are.

You spat at me again, as you proceeded to

accuse me of dishonoring

Your parents, Your money, Your dreams,

Your house, Your life, Your image of what You want me to be.

And all I could think to myself was –

How do I love this man ?

Broken, I’ve realized,

For you to begin, I must end.

And end I did.

May those you love, never make you feel as insignificant

As You ensure I do.

And may God bless you abundantly.

So that one day, the man I love,

The man from that Friday,

Forever consumes You.

I have made peace,

That my love is Weak.

My love is Unlucky.

But at the same time,

I feel blessed.

For that one Friday in Five Years.

Where I can be proud of you, of us.

That I truly did fall in love with

a tender, loving man

who is never afraid to speak his mind.

But now I’m tired.

I’m broken.

Dear man I love from that one Friday in Five years,

If ever you read this,

I have one question to ask you,

When does this end so that I may begin?

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Whore

The oars are heavy,
I push along,
The old boat is weak –
Waves are strong.
The dark is thick,
I remember his song –
“Whore”
Five years ago,
I couldn’t be wrong –
Raven hair, swept back,
His shoulders long.
My heart beat fast,
His Lips, Warm.
“Whore”
At first, he screamed,
It Made me shudder,
I turned to walk,
He cursed my mother.
Arms spread wide,
Then came another –
“Whore”
The wood cuts deep,
Deep into my palm,
The waves begin to soften,
The sea begins to calm.
Black is now light,
And I’m almost ashore.
Just as I’m about to breathe,
I see him standing there –
Greeting me –
“Whore”