A door slammed shut. My shoulders shaking at the unexpected noise.
The moonlight streaked through the window like a delicate butterfly, shining over my new bruises from the shackles of this misery disguised as love.
You hit me. Again.
Your voice was a double-edged knife cutting us both. For months, it has been like this. After tonight, I will worry about my purple-streaked bruises you have painted while you worry about kissing each one of them. I will worry about telling a twisted made-up tale to my friends while you worry about making up for your mistakes---sweeping the broken shards of glass under the rug, away from the prying eyes of everyone.
I'm tired, yet my heart still longs for your warmth. Like a moth to a flame. A dust to the wind. No band aid can fix me. I am the cut that always bleeds. I'll always keep on bleeding until the day you tell me to stop.
Bạn đang đọc truyện trên: Truyen2U.Pro