By Andrea Campbell
The memories tug on my heartstrings
As I sit there in darkness absolved by my sins,
I try to wash away the thought of him
But the cruel feeling of his swollen hands still burns my skin,
And as I sit there wishing to be held again
I remember exactly what he did
To make me hurt him in the first place
And despise every fibre of him so much I wanted him to hate me the way I hated him.
Still, when I catch his eyes in the hallway I find myself wishing to be lost in them again,
Then I remember how lost I used to be,
So much so that I forgot how my God taught me to speak,
And I let him tie my heartstrings into ropes as he strangled the life out of my neck,
Squeezing the blood and the energy out of me as I begged for one last peck.
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