Abuse can feel like love because the starved will eat anything and honey;
I was ravenous.
Malnourished of healthy love and affection I clung to you like a child to her mothers leg on her first day of school;
And I didn’t want to let go.
I grasped at every word for dear life;
Never minding that once alcohol was in your system your words and actions didn’t align,
They didn’t even make sense.
A small light in the blackest of tunnels
I followed you until my shoes wore off and my feet bled;
Walking on the broken glass of my past mistakes made and childhood trauma I never quite recovered from
Hoping I would eventually catch up to the light you kept dangling in front of me.
I never did,
And it turned out the broken glass I was walking on was the same broken glass
you strategically placed so you could watch me bleed while I clung onto the hope of love.
Of light.
Of us.
Just like making a peanut butter sandwich in front of a starving child and feeding it to the dog;
Cruel.
Dehumanizing.
Abuse can feel like love because the starved will eat anything and honey;
I was ravenous.
