Your crafty fingers grasp the finest part of my heartstrings.
My life goes on so that I can one day see your face again.
My anger stays bottled inside, changing my smiles into crooked, tear-soaked expressions.
Yet I have not the strength to fight back, to show you how hard my fists are.
You have this sickening grasp that chokes my heart.
Yet I love it.
I don’t want this grasp to disappear, yet the pressure in my veins heightens by the moments.
My eyes roll back as my life wavers on the edge of frustration and denial, yet I long for more.
The storm of your evil flirts with my storm of temptation.
My words make no sense, yet everyone understands.
It is only when they make sense that your walls deny the meanings.
The anger in me that longs to tell you how horribly distressed I get when you do this is screaming at my hands.
Punch something! Throw something! Do anything that will release me of this fury.
Yet I can’t.
I can’t hurt you.
I can’t scream to the heavens how hurt I get.
Yet the pressure builds, the tears extend, the longing in my suffocating heart grows deeper.
And it is only the beginning.
The beginning of the monster I have to tame.
I have to fight it, not you.
I have to fight the fact that no matter how deep the longing, how heavy the tears…


You will never see the love singing inside my crying heart.