National Poetry Month: Day 16
Manipulation was satiation.
Your insecurity fed my wounded soul.
I knew I could control you, with the easiest words.
And I did.
Entertaining our feelings,
yours more so than mine
was just another game.
Another winner-less game.
Sorry does no justification.
You were earnest,
with your love,
with your heart,
with your inexperience,
with your shortcomings.
I allowed you in,
and you loved me for my flaws.
My misinterpretation of love.
You accepted, loved, and
tried to overcome the demons
that lingered in my head.
You accepted me as the broken vessel I was.
Never questioning it,
never probing into the past that made me the
passive aggressive over compensating witch that I was.
You always told me I was worth more than
I could give myself credit for.
So easily I broke, you time and time again.
Used you like a tool.
Not for your money. Not for your means. Not even for sex.
I was worse.
I took your emotions and substituted them into my life.
It felt like I was loved.
And the love felt beautiful.
It enveloped my senses and I allowed myself to become addicted to your words.
I felt your eyes take in my sighs,
pre-empting my tears with tissues.
Your melodic voice soothed my worries.
Your hands always found the way to the small of my back never straying too low,
or never guiding forcefully up high.
Just in the middle.
Your hand sat perfectly….
And I pushed you away.
I allowed you to think I was available.
That I was an option.
That I was worth a damn.
I knew better from day one, but I allowed you to become ensnared.
I convinced myself that I stood a chance that
I would not do what I was taught.
I wanted to buck my education and look at
men not as a my enemy or even my prey.
I wanted a partner.
I know now, you could have been that.
But I pushed you too far.
Barging in your life after one too many painful escapades.
I drug you in, you always came to pick up the pieces that the others left.
Never once chiding, never once lecturing,
just reminding that I could be better, that I was better.
I know better now.
You were too good for me.
You trusted me too easily.
You listened to my dreams and even worse you listened when I was silent.
I was not worth you because I was not me yet.
I saved you.
I stayed away,
regretting not seeing your smile ever again,
but understanding it was better for you.
So by breaking you, I saved you.
This ridiculous mesh up of words was a poem I found that I wrote ages ago. I never finished it, it was a time when I jaded from bad relationships and had that one friend who wanted more, who wanted to show me that I worth love and he was certain he could prove that to me. I never gave him the chance. I never gave myself the chance. I found this and finished this as best as I could. We do not talk anymore. At that time, to say my life was chaotic is an understatement, but if he did somehow ever run across this, I want him to know, I am loved, I am happy, I am fine, and most importantly I love myself and I take no shit from anyone. Thank you for loving me when I was lost.