Labelled or titled or believed


A great divide: this is me, that is you

Now imagine that divide in your home, whether it came knocking on the door or it just bashed down the door and inconsiderately barged it’s way in.

He lives here. The divide.

No trust. No communication.

Just assumptions, backstabbing, hindering in the idea of a bond, of love, of life.

All I saw was you staring at her like a beautiful piece of lingerie, a glorious steak, the perfect pen.

Not in adoration, but instead in lust, desire, in complete and utter… you know what plain and simple: you’re disgusting!

I can’t even be labelled/ titled/ believed to be a child of God because you have created this void in my chest filled with hatred and rage.



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