An Escape From The Grips Of Love

Life for us was,
Shambolic.
Full of hysteria more than love on most occasions.
Felt like I had eaten more insults during dinner-time more than food.
But,
Maybe,
Those were the fruits of life I’ve needed…

Because,
No longer is my heart at the mercy of her manipulation.
Freed from the grips of a woman,
Scorned,
By her own insecurities.
Each jab brought me a step closer out of our bedroom doors.
A smile on my face as soon as I hit the floor,
On the other side.
Didn’t want to leave,
But,
Eventually forced to do so,
Since I was tired of staring into my mirrors just to scratch away at the surface…

Nonetheless,
My absence in her life doesn’t mean I’d wish for her to live sorrowful.
More so,
I needed to disappear.
From a prison of despair where reminders of my failures are constantly being written on the walls.
Failures I had believed I bounced back from.
I guess,
For her?
My bounce just wasn’t as high as she wanted to be…

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