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Toxic Blood

Domestic Abuse

A picture that my dad always loved 

like all of the best addictions, 

you're killing me, 

and I'm loving every second of it. 

it's almost as if it doesn't hurt anymore. 

in the cocktail of emotions,

pain and love leave the same metallic taste on my tongue. 

the tears that leave my face try to flow away, 

but they go nowhere. 

I like crying for you, 

sadness is more sad in solitude,

but when mixed 

with the spoonful of sugar, 

blood is easier to swallow. 

My love for you is 

a fully-packed, ready-to-go first aid kit. 

stuffed to the brim with band-aids and bandages 

to heal the little jabs. 

fully equipped with magical healing ointment. 

My love for you is trained in CPR 

and knows exactly what to do in an emergency. 

My love for you holds the zap 

that restarts my cold dead heart. 

I forgive you for things you haven't done yet. 

I forgive you even when you don't say sorry, 

you never do. 

I forgive myself for loving you, 

because sometimes I just need someone to go easy on me. 

My skin can tell a story,

and my tattoos of love are written 

in black, blue, and red.

Sometimes love has less to do with affection,

and more to do with addiction. 

Sometimes the price of rehab has less to do with money,

and more to do with sacrifices.   

Our love is a puzzle with too sharp of edges, 

we can't fit together without breaking some skin, 

others can't see the beautiful picture beyond our blood, 

but we know it's there. 

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Toxic Blood
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