I never had the chance to explore the boundaries of my own heart,
Before you punctured it.
Letting the untapped love seep from inside to deflate my innocence.
But that wasn’t enough.
See after you punctured it, you continued to lacerate the flattened skin of the once useful muscle. You continued to split pieces of all that I had left slowly and painfully disintegrating my ability to trust.
But that wasn’t enough.
That wasn’t enough because you couldn’t just leave me with a battered sense of self. You decided to break me.
You took action to not only kill my ambition to love but to even believe in my own sanity.
You made me doubt myself beyond recognition.
But that wasn’t enough.
You allowed me to travel my years lost, alone, and angry.
You permitted my inconsistency and inability to get close to anyone.
You turned me into a bitch; a mental slave, a hermit of the heart.
All the while making it so I couldn’t properly process what you’d even done because I couldn’t point my finger.
But that wasn’t enough.
That wasn’t enough because you denied the existence of my pain. You played my ever-lasting hell on earth as a hollow accusation. You stripped the person I might have been before I even had a chance to be her. You raped the emotion of my inner child.
You tried to murder me.
But. That. Wasn’t. enough!
That wasn’t enough for ME.
That wasn’t enough to lay there where I bleed.
To break me in my hour of need.
What you did to me…what took for me…was not enough, wasn’t so much that I couldn’t recover.
It wasn’t enough…because there will never be enough of anything to take me from me…
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