I supposed I was difficult

In the end—

No not the end

This can’t be the end

Can it?

I didn’t mean it to be an end

It isn’t an end is it?

It’s not my end

Just in part

Though whole this pain does feel

I was the problem

Or was I the victim?

I was scared

I was embarrassed

I was callous

Perhaps I can’t love anyone right

I always thought I could

My heart was so large

But it seems pleasure grew with pain

I never thought I could hurt myself

Not more than I already was

Hatred was my drink of choice

And I imbibed like a woman dying of thirst

And yet

When the piece of me he tucked into his heart drove itself through my own

I didn’t even see it coming

Hadn’t I given him the softest parts of my soul?

Hadn’t I pillowed his fall?

Why did this discarded shard feel so jagged?

I thought of the cracked and imperfect piece of myself

Lodged in his chest

And I wondered how long I had lived like a wound

Taking pain from him with the very best

He had loved a blade like a flower

And languished under my iron petals

I was never meant for a garden

But the world grows ever colder without the heat of the greenhouse

And my world begins to snow

It’s easier to tell the turth when you cant see their face

And they had it so easy