monk

i loved a man with broken Eyes,

who turned his wounds to waR and lIes,

hed Cry, then scream, then tear me down

then beg me not to let him drown.

i loved him more than i could bare,

i saw the good that wasn’t there,

held his hand through every storm,

and let his chaos feel like warmth.

he wore his pain like rusted chains,

then bound me in his storms and blames.

each day began with walking tight,

each word i spoke could spark a fight.

he’d call me names, abuse, distort.

then twist my truth like a cruel sport.

he mocked my tears with poisoned glee,

as if my pain set his mind free.

i loved him when he gave me hell,

and told myself he meant it well.

i lost myself inside his mind,

while searching for the love id find.

but love should never make you small,

or train you just to fear a call.

it shouldn’t leave you drained and numb,

or break your spirit just for fun.

i begged, i hoped, i tried to stay,

convinced my light could fix his grey.

but some storms aren’t mine to mend,

some stories twist and have to end.

the hardest part was walking free,

when every part still ached for we.

but love that hurts is not your fate,

you can miss him and you can escape.

so piece by piece i took me back,

from all his cruel relentless flack.

i learned that peace should never feel,

like silence forced to help him heal.

no i walk, not run or crawl.

my voice is mine, ive claimed it all.

it hurt to leave,

it hurt to stay,

but loving me won out that day :P