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torircasey

If you don't learn to write your own story, someone else will write it for you

1 poem·Since December 2017
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Bruises of Hope

December 18, 2017

Dear ex,

Your words as sharp as knives scrape slow and deep across my skin

They aren't words.

It is the blade you told me I needed.

It wasn't love I was feeling.

I found safety in your danger.

I wasn't finding satisfaction in the way you held me anymore

I found hope in every bruise you stamped onto my skin.

It was hope you would one day return to the man I loved

But..

You aren't the man I loved, only the shell.

-Tori Casey

 
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