I didn’t love myself
So I thought
His “love” would
be enough to fill me up
To cover the holes
And fill the cracks
Until I felt whole again
But his love
Wasn’t love
It was something deeper
Something darker
A disease beneath his skin
Growing within the place
His heart should be
His “love” flowed like ink
Darker than black
His words settling on my skin
Like words on paper so thin
They almost tear through
Cutting me deep
It slithered
Dark and slimy
Until my heart was covered
And silent
Choked out by words he said
And the actions he gave