Someone told me to just let go. If it comes back to you, it was always yours. So I picked myself up from the bathroom floor, and held onto him.
Locked the front door.
Never was a fan of unnecessary steps… Just skip the complex and get to what’s next.
Stuffed my fingers in between the jealousy. Plugged my ears when he’d disagree.
refused to believe
that if my hand suddenly released,
I’d just have to….wait and see?
Relinquish control of my own destiny?
No…. That didn’t seem productive to me.
Way more inclined to watch my knuckles bleed, then dig my nails in his chest, and force his head against my breast. Said he needed a break, so I’d break every bone he tried to rest with a grip resembling death. Fist compressed. Muffled, squashed, and squeezed him into faithfulness, and I guess…
Trying not to let go of him,
I lost myself.
So I let go of me and… just held my breath…