Sad Poet Saturday: Eros

Like I said Tuesday, I need therapy about this love. I have never been number one. I have always been an option.

I’m the second choice cause I’m funny and “sweet”, but unrefined and plain faced. So I’m not a first thought girl.

I have a great personality, but I’m crazy, because I’ve been traumatized. Trauma is not sexy. Giving me trauma is.

Treat me however you feel. I will forgive you. Not anymore.

I just want to be held like I’m sacred. Like I am something to protect. I want to look into eyes that love mine and see into my soul and think “You’re weird. I love it.”

I have been used. No one feels for me. I have become so alone that the voices I hear are demons pretending to be men I loved. Yes, I loved. I loved people, but I was trapped in a wounded, rotting brain. Depression, Anxiety, and formerly felt up.

I am called a whore for that. Touch is my love language. I was in love. I was losing my mind from not being the only one. I was losing my mind so much I saw a different man instead of who I was with.

Do you know how terrifying that is? I loved men who used me. I could be wife material, but you would never know because you feel love for someone else and not me. Never use me again.

My heart will be held back until I know I am the only person you want. Your forever.

Published by joyzadandie

I'm all about fitness and novels. check me out!

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