To many loves,
Too many loves!
I am five foot and eleven inches up and enough inches out that I once doubted my own worth.
It took many men many inches ball deep to rewrite the script that told me I was not enough.
It took other women too….. and sometimes both at once.
Countless nights spent drowning in self sabotage that constantly seeped from my eyes.
Like your hands around my throat when I thought I wasn’t deserving of real love.
Your desire to hurt me for ‘our’ pleasure was a myth I lived in place of fairytale.
That sword from your heart of stone,
the one you drew against me in countless fights for your affections…
I’d have let you cut my heart out with that sword so you could keep my love forever.
You could have stitched it in to your stockpile of failed relationships,
none your fault,
and fashioned a suit fit for cad and bounder kings.
We both knew that sword would never make me flinch though…
Right before I grew a back bone long enough for a more worthy prince to climb
I needed you to cut me up just as much as you needed me to suck your cock.
You knew that as well as I did and I know we both honed our skill.
We busted out every one of our best moves to remain desirable (no matter how ugly that actually looked).
Do you remember that clumsy dance we did?
The one where we dragged each others souls across the floor until they stained…?
Of course you do.
We both knew it by heart as we’d rehearsed it with so many others.
We both hoped that one day someone might dance it well enough to take the lead role.
Maybe then we could finally stop and rest and change the fucking record.
We were both so sick of that song but neither could resist spitting the words as we hated yet another who ruined the music.
For us to play a different song
first we’d have to face the silence.
We would have had to slip into that gap where all the cracks in our skull let the light seep in.
In that stark, bright quiet we would have had to see ourselves.
Not the way we do in the mirror as we apply the masks we hide behind
but in the way that shows us all the vulgar, sordid, shameful, painful, fucked up mess that we ran in to the arms of others to avoid.
We would have fallen into an abyss of self loathing and inadequacy so deep that no amount of cock could fix it.
Hiding with you was much less painful than wading through the sewers of my self to find my way.
At least then,
when I was rock bottom and covered in shit,
I could blame you.
At least then I didn’t have to be accountable for my own happiness.
I stopped taking the roll call to find out who I could fight next.
I fought myself so hard with your sword that I had to stop fucking things up and laugh at all the damage I’d done in learning how to love myself.
I took out my spirit and tried to wash it clean in the rivers of emotion I spewed out in finally facing things.
I swallowed my pride and got down on my knees to dig my own foundations instead of kneeling just to swallow you.
I emptied the suitcases of chaos I carted round and packed them up with courage instead.
I slayed demons and dragons so demoralising that death nearly kissed me
and I drove that self hate so far away that I could love you again.
Just this time from afar.
For every time we chewed each other up and spat each other out
there were times you made me laugh so hard I nearly pissed.
I got as lost in your eyes and your arms as I did in the fantasy that you could save me.
Some days you held me so tight I was sure I’d stay in one piece.
How impossible and selfish was the quest that I beseeched you?
You never stood a chance!
Neither of us should have thought our magic strong enough to transmute each others darkness.
You did come to collapse me
but only so I could rebuild into loving myself.
You were never there to love me whole like a fairytale.
I don’t know how I was so naive to think life was even that easy!
I stopped playing victim and I wave my white flag in surrender.
I apologise for your having to carry all the blame while I feigned moral superiority.
It didn’t matter who fired the first shot,
neither of us were brave enough to fight our fears ourselves.
If I had held us both in high enough regard
neither of us would have walked away so injured.
I know I could cut as deep as you and that I was equally willing not to fight fair.
I used to revel in that but now?
It shames me.
However much our fire fiercely burned the forest of my faux existence
that carnage forced new growth.
I built myself up so good that I am safe all by myself now.
I no longer need that mask…
not even in the mirror when I face myself daily.
I see AND like myself now.
Even on the ugly days!
Now I stand tall and I see how wide my smile is when I extend it to myself.
Those scars we made together made me so much more beautiful
I thank you for that.
I thank you for it all.
Now I am five foot eleven up and enough inches out that I don’t need a man to know my worth.