He knows how to use his words.
I am not a raging storm when he is done but rather a baby just about to be put to sleep. I do not hear him say he say he is leaving, he is sneaky, gathering his things in the chamber of my heart.
He is not flawed, he has enough magic to convince me that I need more and it is not him but he tells me he loves me. That he is grateful. I want to say if you love me stay. Instead I tell him he is welcome before I put my head down to escape in sleep.
I am tired, I am spent. My emotional being is a cadaver and I have nothing left to give anyone. Not even myself. I embody the calm before the storm. It is only after he is gone that the lightening starts to strike, it leaves me with scars and cuts that bleed sometimes and it rains heavily. There is alcohol flowing everywhere, even more, tears. I am a wreck. I still can’t decide if i am the ship left without a captain or the sea storm that everyone runs from.
I am a reprobate.
We all know this, you could tell that I have fallen from grace in the way I walk. My bounce is heavy, stride uneven and shoulders arched, bent from carrying all my demons but this does not matter. it does not matter anymore. My misdeeds are no longer a lapse in judgement, just another part of the day.
Ever give yourself to someone to the extent that their absence leaves you lost? Unsure of which path to go? or maybe it’s just me and my poetic ways about life but i’m sure i’m not alone.
It has broken.
It’s been broken.
But after you let someone come in and heal you. One would think they’d have the good sense to go easy on you(read: not leave you). You think they’ll always be that one person you can rely on, until they leave you with your own kinda scars.
I don’t know if it is suppose to hurt less? Maybe my mother never told me The Secrets Of The Dwelling Places, places like hearts. There is no Holy book that teaches us the things we can and can not do.
As much as I try to accept that we break to mend and mend to break. That the two can not exist without each other. That I can not know love if love has not been taken from me.
As much as I would want to claim someone to be mine, I know in my heart of hearts that no one is ever truly yours. Not even your own mother. So calm your storms.
It’s okay to be a raging sea sometimes but calm yourself. You are in abundance, a planet, you will always have a place in the universe even though at times one may feel as though God has flicked you to the edge of nothingness.
I still love. I still breathe. I still rage. I’m human in as much as I am God.
I simply Am.