I must admit.
It feels good to breathe.
It felt good to hurt.
I am not quite sure why.
Maybe, I have grown used accustomed to it.
Do I like this cycle?
You are beginning to look like a cyclone.
The walls are unbalanced.
It is too late to turn around.
I started this.
I want this pain.
Give it to me.
When you say you love.
I take it in offence.
My heart is antique.
When you push me down.
I get back up.
Why?
I should not rely on it.
The pain.
Yet, I do.
Even if he left.
There are others outside the door.
Another to hurt me.
Then to convince me I'm beautiful.
When you let me down.
You always come back up.
The comes the hurt.
The lust.
I lick my lips.
It's delicious.
-Amber Barnes.
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