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No box for baby

A diary of toxic love tales

By Leeann Free FormPublished 10 months ago 1 min read
Photo by Baron Brooks

Little burned box held closed with duct tape

I sold myself as small, so, it’s only fitting that’s where you stored me

And upon opening this box, after a good nights sleep, you were stunned by a war

Out I came, swinging and roaring

You didn’t stand a chance

I wouldn’t go back in, and I would not leave.

Nor would you let me.

I frightened you, but you found it exhilarating.

So began our favorite game

I pretend to leave, you pull me back

I raise hell, you run away

I drag you back, you point at the box

I offer the bed.

We compromise.

love poems

About the Creator

Leeann Free Form

I like the simple words and the spaces in between them.

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