Frozen in disbelief of the reality of us
crumbled into a stranger I’ve trusted my whole life
secrets of your hate spill into conversations filled with noise of abusive tones
of your expression of love; some how filled with blood
shed droplets upon my face streaming liquid rivers of the years I’ve waited
for the potential of your greatness to reach the pedestal that I’ve place the idea of who I wanted you to be.
pretty little lies I believe in my mind, it’ll never happen again;
but when my head hit the mirror, I see myself through my own eyes
but even they tell lies and whisper, “I’m okay”.
Who am I without the fantasy that I could make you love me
the way I remember in every fairytale, molded my mind to project
an image of who you’d never become.
I can’t remember when we laughed without strain
or when I didn’t have to explain why I love you.
All I see is the pressure of your might, willing to fight
with me but not for me, you channel
exploding episodes of world wars compacted into one zone,
homes disconnected from reaching aid,
I fade into the battle of my mind
pressed for a solution to smolder the rage,
but also to find an escape, I give the one thing you’ll take
beat with violence, passion, satisfaction, gratification
I wait for the hate.
AMAZING DANCE AGAINST DOMESTIC VIOLENCE
© 2018 Leslie Robertson