Cotton-candy declarations, saccharine kisses,
pretty couples copulating,
vows made never to be broken,
while sifting through the ashes,
of love’s furnace burnt-out, of fuck-you’s that were never meant to be spoken.

Hurt by so many whispered half-truths,
torn, twisting, trying to stand up,
hearing only words meant to slap spirits down,
coarse words putting her down,
salty sting of tears into which,
she sometimes wishes she could drown.

Standing up, taking the strands of life, rearranging,
tossing out the old, bitter, leaden weight under which one cannot breathe,
hoping against hope, while the simmering anger quietly seethes.

Break away, throw off the shackles, unchain the handcuffed heart, the polluted mind,
reclaim your dignity, take back your conscience,
embrace yourself for once, after moons and moons,
while the healing starts, the words still sting like poisoned harpoons.

Live. Breathe. Leave.

Take no more of the guilt, wrapped up in silken threads, layered in lacey lingerie, swimming in a murky swirling maelstrom of grief, of wounds festering, of scabs unable to heal,
wrap it all in flimsiness,
trading giggles for fears, swiftly frozen in absolute amnesia, losing it in a rotten, unrepentant deal