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Sonia Nkera
The Writeful Authoress The Writeful Authoress

My name is sonia nkera

The Writeful Authoress
The Writeful Authoress

My name is sonia nkera

The one you called love

Sonia Nkera, January 11, 2022

Sometimes you walk by the glass windows on the street

You avert your eyes

Because you might meet your own eyes

Your reflection staring back at you

Sometimes you don’t like what you see

Because it wasn’t good enough

Not for the one you called love

Once upon a time

A time not so long ago

How many times did you prowl the internet

How many articles did you read

Words to teach you how to fix yourself

How to be loveable

Did you realize you were doing it?

Trying to learn to be loved?

Hoping they’d see you even when you were right in front of them?

When did it start to kill you

How long did it take you to realize you were just a shell

Hollowed out

Because you gave, and gave and gave

And the one you called love?

All they did was take, and take and take

And then ask for more

When did you realize they did not even see it when you gave?

But you were happy to give

After all what is love about, right?

When did you realize you’d turned into a beggar?

You know that saying about beggars and choosing

Most got it wrong

You see beggars cannot even ask

Not when it comes to love

Did your silent pleas for love get loud at night?

And the one you called love, when they gave, it was the opposite of what you wanted

How many times did your heart break?

When did you decide it was useless bringing it up?

Love

When did it become a myth when you were supposed to be in love

When did the hurtful things they said stop being shadows but echoes in your head?

How many times did you want to wipe the slate?

But the apologies never came

When did you decide it was alright to stop trying to carry the blame and be the blame

It was what the one you called love wanted

So you became the blame

Strike a match to the gasoline cremate that “love”

How’s that for gaslighting

Soot, ashes

That’s all that is left

Now you smile at glass

The person looking back in the mirror

You like that person

And suddenly there’s voices from the ashes, whispers from the one you called love

Pleas for Second chances

A plea to love you better this time

You look back in the glass

Why couldn’t they love you the first time?

You step over the embers

There will be no phoenix rising from the ashes

It is not that kind of story

Uncategorized healinglovepoetryrelationshipsself discoverstrengthwriting

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