I want to talk about love, pain, fear, what brings you happines. I want to have long conversations on the porch, wrapped up in a blanlet. I want to tell our stories infront of a fire. I want to talk about who we want to be. I want to listen to our favorite songs under the stars. I want to genuinely know you.
Another fight again. To him over nothing. The lack of compassion sends me into an empty space in my mind. Sadness has taken its course and my body turns cold. Never understanding, he’s not even trying. Does he even see me. My heart is breaking. Words keep flowing, no actions ever taken. Happiness I keep begging for, into an ear that’s never listening. Why can’t he see me. How many times have I cried, I’ve run out of fingers to count. Torn between staying or leaving. But why do I do this to myself?