I’m sorry that I’m so cold-hearted
So scared to be hurt again and recline to the darkness that I can’t even accept the light in you.
When I go to the toy store, I still see evil, shit I don’t even want them anymore.
The only child memories I have are cigarettes and words.
I had to adjust to sleep like amphibians adjust to water.
My affinity is caring too much.
Not the money, but caring for the love of sin.
The sin of drinking Lipton tea while laying next to you. Basking in your golden eyes as you cry out if that’s how I really feel.
You’re not an idiot, you’re a survivor. Like me.
But all this time, I couldn’t even accept my faults-I place them on your shoulders instead.
No more feeling sorry girl, I tell myself.
It’s a Poseidon trap for only blob fish that live with mouths wide open for the ephemeral.
She breaths, curses her mother and accepts the only man that has seen her armor and still handed her the sun.