Maybe I never loved you, maybe I did, maybe I was caught up on how I lived. Maybe my dreams turned into fears, maybe you were the one to make it better, maybe I wanted this forever. Maybe I cared, maybe you didn’t, maybe I made promises before committing. Maybe it was you since 2008, maybe it was me, because I wanted to be great. Maybe I hurt you, because maybe you lied, maybe you destroyed me on the inside. Maybe I was bruised, maybe it was abuse, maybe my promiscuous ways made us fuel. Maybe it was mayhem, maybe it was childhood, maybe everything will never be all good. Maybe I needed to elevate, maybe it was God. Maybe it was all the time you spent with her, maybe it was marriage, maybe it was babies and carriages, maybe it was us sitting in the tree, maybe it was the chirping of my tweetle Lee Lee. Maybe it was love songs, maybe it was magic, maybe I should’ve waited for this tragedy. Maybe I’m embarrassed, maybe you’re ashamed, maybe love is just a runner’s game. Maybe I give, maybe you don’t, maybe I’ll care, maybe you won’t. Maybe you’ll come back, maybe I’ll pray, maybe there’s love in another way. Maybe your name means more than you think, maybe the time we spent doesnt change the way we seek. Maybe the heart’s were meant to break, maybe none of us are who we say. Maybe it’s over, maybe it’s just begun, maybe it’s because we were young. Maybe in time, maybe forever, all I know is that maybe isn’t never.
About the Creator
Charelle Landers
Published author, (A Serious of Unfortunate Events, pen name Jessica Wright) and mother to six wonderful children. I find that writing is a healing passion of purpose and the ultimate pursuit to happiness.
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My Voice
Feels like I’m stuck in this inferno of what I thought was love. It will never be, abuse is not love it always ends in catastrophe. Coming from a long line of people, a parent who is evil and a group of individuals who wishes to deceive you. You get stuck pained in different strokes, hoping to never commit the worst praying and prying your hands away from the dirt. Listening to the sounds of trouble lurk, as you lay still hoping that you know your worth. Self love only exists from the makeup people wear to hide the pain behind the shadows that kept love hidden, long enough before we met at the time of goodbye. Love shouldn’t make you cry, in love you shouldn’t live a lie, and that’s all I’ve seen, pain overloaded through a man’s fist, yells and screams, plastered walls drug induced ranged, mixed with alcohol. I see you, a person filled with the definitive definition of what he thinks are his own failures, hoping to find a woman weak enough to wail her, just to impale her. Gratitude comes from the grace of my discernment, you have left me cold as the pavement showed me no mercy. Withered away underneath the concrete, the rose still blossoms but no one gets to see what’s bury beneath. I hate that I met you, pain became a staking change where my opportunities didn’t fail you, although, you will never love. My mother will be the judge that gave you the gavel to hurt my heart, you broke me in places because I didn’t know my heart. I gave endlessly to beings who considered me a problem while I suffered through survival. I shadow pain like I’m trying to learn the impossible, how can I forgive when y’all refuse to let me let go. I want to heal and this is what you know. You promise that the end was near only to find out love has gave birth to everything I had begin to fear. The mirrored light is only a reflection of a soul you tried to bury and leave the corpse hidden behind a wooded area hoping that I was Jesus’s bride and not carried. Using the Bible for more than a conscious effort, and teaching the word to my beneficiaries. I hate this sorrow and I’m not sorry for not loving you anymore!
By Charelle Landers4 months ago in Poets
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