I’m different because of you.
I used to think it was a curse;
a defect in the aftermath of us.
I convinced myself it made me weak
to be damaged by your time in my life.
Don’t get me wrong, if I could
I would change how I jump at sounds
and how I wake up with tears in my eyes
and how I flinch at sudden movements.
I’d go back if I could and warn myself that
you’ll only teach me how to be scared in my home,
how to question every word another man says,
how to feel unworthy of genuine love.
But, while you broke parts of me
and left me to put back all the pieces,
you also taught me what love isn’t;
and there’s value in that.