I take my head in my hands Your name circles my mind Fingers intertwined I wonder what we could have been as she stands She crosses the room in a flash Sitting side by side With my love, my guy I replay the memory and then my mind begins to crash The cold feet of the poet He stands there in silence Because he chose violence The cruel memory is a lie, and he knows it He continues to thread The intricate spool of lies Now a mile long, he cries Out in pain, all alone in my head The victim is chosen Every time things get tough Or relationships gone rough All my fears in a corner, left solid, unspoken I still get cold feet When I'm falling in love And a small singing dove Calls the last note of the song, so sad, yet so sweet
Hello, my ally-cats! This poem was created with the notion of continuing to play yourself as the victim and hide your true feelings away, casting lies onto others and yourself to help shield the truth away. Specifically, though, the last stanza is about when you fall in love with the wrong person (which has happened a lot) and you're letting go. That moment hurts most of the time and also feels like a weight is being lifted off your shoulders. In short... It's Stage 1: Denial. But we gaslight and gatekeep and girlboss! Right? ...Right?
