What's Love?
When you think about it, I may have known subconsciously what was really going on. Maybe I thought that if we rekindled what never existed, he would be different. He is not different, nor am I if I thought what I was doing would secure whatever it was destined to be. Nothing. I write constantly about what could have been and what might have been, but what is, is I cannot subject myself to these sadistic men. The world portrays happiness in anything, but heartache never seems to heal. Never seems to be forgiving.
Submissive, masochistic, sad girl,
He was never your world.
He always belonged to someone else.
Whether you realize it or not.
You were always just some callous tart,
As they say,
Maybe one day I will be able to let his opinion of me go,
But now, I flow, and flow,
Down the dreaded river of tears,
Trying so desperately to subdue my fears,
I conquer, what conquers me,
Yet, I find myself falling in love.
Love,
What’s that?
A feeling of dismay, and shallow breaths.
A glimpse of love,
And your chest will tighten,
And tighten,
Leaving you breathless.
Love,
What’s that?
A companionship of loyalty and trust,
Only shattered by lies and lust.
Your throat closes and your mouth wilts its moisture,
Leaving you sobbing,
And sobbing,
All night on the floor.
How many times,
How many times before you walk out the door?
Leaving behind that sad, masochistic, submissive girl.
Love,
What’s that?
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