Collide with me.


You whispered into my ears everything he said I wasn’t.

You desired me in a way he didn’t.

You made me feel good about the fragments of beauty (or lack thereof) that he constantly made me feel sorry for.

You spoke right through to the depths of my heart. The same place that (still) holds the hurt from the times he reminded me of my flaws that made feel like I wasn’t deserving of love.

So, collide with me. Now and again. In beautiful, beautiful ways. For, I’ll be here. Waiting.

This might be self-destruction. But, isn’t that what love does – creates and destroys all at once.

It’s been a while but I’m still left here picking up the pieces.

So cut me some slack and let me be; just me.

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