Trapped in the Quicksand of Love

Here’s something a bit different. Actually, very different. I’ve been challenging my writing with stabs at… Poetry! I sometimes need to step out of my comfort zone, away from my safety net and this definitely makes me feel both vulnerable and somewhat uncomfortable. I’ll be posting them up regularly. Let me know your thoughts. Be honest (honestly) since like I said, this is supposed to be a challenge. (But if it’s accolades you want to bestow upon me, well, who am I to stop you).

 

Love was your mask.
Bitterness disguised.
Not ever genuine.
Our kinship and bloodline
you compromised, sacrificed.

Love was your hold on me.
Frequently misused and confused.
Your self-appointed power.
A reign you abused.

Suffocated in your excuses.
I was left breathless,
mute, expressionless.
My inner self insignificant.
An outer shell, lifeless
For you to possess.

You never saw me.
You never cared for me.
You used love to guilt me.

I listened to your words.
Read between the lines.
You’d convince her to never birth me
if you could turn back time.
You alone,
to shine in her eyes.

You torture me
for the love you never felt.
You blame me.
You shame me.
You nail me
to the cross
for the life you couldn’t help.

My heart trusted you
gold-plated
served on a platter.
I hoped for you.
She asked me to.
None of it ever mattered.

Now empty and buoyant
Exhausted and depleted
One day I’m to rise above.
Until then I remain static
to avoid drowning
in your quicksand of love.

— The Pretty Platform

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