Yeah.
It was just like me to fall for those big brown eyes, sweet talking, wounded-wonderful soul.
I thought I could heal you. Make the pain of your past, escape you like sand in between the spaces of my fingers.
It was my silly heart that believed in you.
So I clung to the idea that you, ‘might’, change too…
… until you finally blackened my eyes.
I understand now, why it had to happen.
Why love sometimes eventually dies.
Well! You got my attention…
I’m listening....
And I'm hearing that your promise to, 'never hurt me,' was in fact, a lie.
And I need you to know, from the bottom of my heart. ..
That a piece of me, inside, has died.
About the Creator
©I.M. "That Girl," Inure Muse
Hi! I'm "That Girl Muse," author, artist, muse, poet, surrealist and spirit guide, who uses creativity as a means to heal the mind. Each poem's a lil' bit of Inure Muse's story @Find_the_muse & support my work. You can also book me online!
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Reaching Out
I promise her. I'd do anything for her. She's my mom. Even as Lanie and Deanna are flying home, Mom is scrappy fighting dying. She lays too still in that too-big bed with all the toasty white hospital blankets, in the south tower, at the broad end of a long slow-turning corner that delivers me again to her private room with the view she can't see through, with the beeping that tells us nothing new, and all these ice chips she can't swallow, and a flood of well-intentioned nurses who cannot do a damned thing all the same.
By Christy Munson5 days ago in Fiction
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