I wanna suppose yet i already know,
this is something he nor she will ever feel,
and for that i am grateful,
for this i am tangled, while so very
lonely. an this maybe consequence
for all that's been done, for who i
have been for what once was loved,
but above all for finally loading
this gun.
Not intending to shoot but incidently
blowing holes right through myself
an out the backside of you as well
slaughtering us both in a horrific
scene of abuse that's hollowed us
both out too. leaving these feelings
i have yet to divest, just as i can't
accept nor understand any of them.
while it seems i am going to fold
under this being pressed because it
hurts to realize the power i've given
in, an all i want to do is leave
myself, run or beat the hell out of
who i cant help before this ends
while i turn away in pain of physical
strain with visible bruises seen outside
of how i feel,
when inside is even worse from
being abused with wounds that
words can't define or express.
-sarah dilts
