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Infidel

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When I saw them today I realized that the sting of it will not dull.




The nothing I can do about it drives me, with no where to go.




I can not escape the pain.




He will never understand, it cuts so deep.




I feel so attacked, so wounded, still.




Fleeting impulses of blood dripping off my fingertips, screaming “you win.”




A quick blade across the wrist, not just for her, but all the jabs, all the I don’t cares, “don’t love yous”, all the men before him and all the moments of nothingness inside.




My fight for sanity seems so futile.




So I can not be with him and then find something else, new pains, new sorrows.




Can I not escape this?




My strength and weakness fluctuate like day and night.




The hardest ax to bear is the love I have for him, how I wish it could fade.




He does not deserve it. He does not want it. He throws it away.




I know this yet I go forth with hope, ever more listlessly.




The sunlight is so faint at this distance.




I yearn for its light, for the warmth, all that I imagine it to be.




I am a fool.




This will never be.




He is the driver and I am in the trunk.




When ever it pleases him he can pull over and leave me at the side of the road.




And dare I dig my nails in the dirt to pull myself up; he will be there with one foot on my skull, reminding me where I am.




How long can my son look out the window and see this?

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