Ignorance is bliss.
You seem to live in a paradise that is more than temporary.
You turn a blind eye at my pain,
Pouring lemon juice in my wounds as you shove Hennessy down my throat.
It burns.
Not the physical pain,
Not the cuts.
But seeing your face,
Seeing you happy as I am suffering.
I loathe your existence.
You are not worthy of my pain,
Of my struggling,
Of my anger.
I cannot hate you,
I will not allow myself.
But I will be kind,
And I will love you because no one else wanted to.
Because I don't want to.
I will love you because no one loved me,
And I know how it feels to be left in the darkness of the tunnel.
But ignorance is bliss.
I am not on a private island with a drink in hand,
I stand in the lake of fire dancing on the graves of those who hurt me.
I am free.
YOU ARE READING
Woman.
PoetryA book of poems and feelings. A book from a girl, a rose from the concrete. A Woman growing.
