This man.

This man I love,

to the bottomless pits

of my being.

Lord, I love.

But I’ve lost hope.

I’ve lost hope

That we could ever be a family.

Or even friends.

I’ve lost hope.

This man I love,

I also hate.

Through his lies,

I frolic through,

the bees and butterflies.

The bees,

the buzzing,

of a new life ahead of me.

The butterflies,

the flying,

the sweet smell of freedom.

These shackles and chains,

I bare no more.

The tears may come,

But still I go.

There’s still hope,

beyond that door.