Honestly... I'm not immune to the sharp, verbal swords driven through the thin, skin of my now bleeding heart.
Though I may like it rough, during sex, granted, but not when we're trying to talk. For real, there's absolutely nothing Fifty Shades of Grey about being verbally ripped and torn apart.
Ergo, it's kind of hard for me to believe the "I love you's". When the very same lips, just told me "I'm not worth it", too. To be honest, I'm not even mad at you. I still love you.
I'm not even sad about the 2 AM drama over dog poop.
All the things you've said aren't a reflection of how you feel about me.
No, sweetie.
It's the way you feel about, 'you.'
© #ThatGirlMuse💋 MMXX
About the Creator
©I.M. "That Girl," Inure Muse
Hi! I'm "That Girl Muse," author, artist, muse, poet, surrealist and spirit guide, who uses creativity as a means to heal the mind. Each poem's a lil' bit of Inure Muse's story @Find_the_muse & support my work. You can also book me online!
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I hate myself sometimes
I hate myself sometimes, well, to be honest, most times. I despise the way I say what I feel; instead of think before I relay. I fucking loathe how my condition makes me feel this way. I spew hurtful things when I can't efficiently manage my emotions in a better way. Ergo, they end up saying to me, precisely what they think of me. Articulated with Spartan-like force in the most Achillean of tones, which cut so deeply, I felt the blood from the wound sting down to my bones.
By ©I.M. "That Girl," Inure Muse6 years ago in Poets
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