I’ve stopped reading your horoscope before mine
Why is it so hard to love some people?
And why is it that despite being hurt repeatedly, we persist. It’s almost like we want validation from these tortured souls. Or maybe we’re the ones who are broken. Dismantled, disfigured, ugly pieces of art that we are, we seek solace in others.
That love however, left me feeling like a currency note that was left in my jeans pocket and forgotten- after a gruesome laundry cycle, crumpled, torn up and left to dry. Useful still, but not really.
That love wasn’t the smell of fresh parchment or butterflies in my tummy. It was anything but. It was the sea during a storm, raging and threatening to wreck havoc.
That (your) love was a lie. But while it lasted, it was devastatingly beautiful.
