Love isn’t...

 I can feel what I felt and how I thought he loved me. Isn't that how someone shows you they love you? 

For me growing up love looked like abuse and taking advantage. Love looked like him choking me and telling me I was a bad girl for what I had done earlier. Love looked like me begging for relief so that I could just breathe. Love looked like me being scared to go home but having nowhere else to go. Love smelled like desperation and sweat. Love felt like tears streaming down my face and constant pain. Love tasted like the blood I would swallow after biting my tongue or getting hit. 

Love was not kind, it was rough and hard. It didn't care what I said or how hard I tried. It would look at me and laugh. It would tell me over and over that I was ugly & that no one would ever want me.

Love... 

But I couldn't live my life at that time without it. It was what I knew to be true and consistent. Love never lied, I always knew how love felt, what love thought and how I turned love on. I knew without a doubt love would feed me, clothe me, and fuck me. These three things I knew for sure. The one time I got away from love, I ran back to him. Because I thought love was the only way to make it in this world. And that night I cried and screamed and begged love to leave me alone. He simply looked at me and told me I was his and he didn't have to stop. And then he fucked me, beat me and went to bed for a good nights rest. I did all I could not to kill love. He deserved it and more. But I would be no match to him if he woke up. 

So I stayed in the bathroom, huddled in the shower and at first light I left love for good...