Not enough


I remember lying in your lap. You stroked my hair. The only time I felt calm and at peace.  I thought perhaps I found my best friend.  You were the best version of myself.  Then you said, you are going to hurt me.   I asked how. You said I wasn’t the one. I answered it was ok and I know.  That night you ripped my heart out of my chest.  I withdrew as I didn’t know what else to do.

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Published by: her mourning coffee

Walking a fine line between genius and insanity. My words are raw, sometimes visceral, and vulgar.  I write to settle my thoughts.  I have triggers that extract emotional immaturity, deep- rooted fears, anger, insecurity, vulnerability, yet I heal with every stroke of the pen.  I might be that monster.  I sometimes scare myself.  Please keep this in mind as you read.  I do not wish to provoke you, though stories need to be told. *not all posts are in real time

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