True Love

Love was when she sowed seeds in my open wounds and flowers bloomed.

Love was when I called her crying and hung up laughing.

Love was when he carved out her heart and I felt it too.

Love was when she watched me make the same mistake over and over again, and always came back to pick up the pieces.

Love was when I looked in the mirror and saw my mother’s eyes smiling back at me.




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My Dearest Sociopath