Hannah Torres Poems

He calls me beautiful as he plays with my hair.
He whispers in my ears he loves me.
Maybe that's why I miss him.
Maybe that's why my body aches for him.
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He touches me with one hand,
while he beats me with the other.
A never ending cycle.
Like a hamster on a wheel, going round and round.
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Are you ok?
A phrase said over and over again.
Words that I'm tired of hearing.
Questions that I'm tired of answering.
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I do not know how I would be able to look you in the eyes and say that it's ok.
When really it's not.
It's like being shot and saying it did not hurt.
When to be honest it hurt worst then you could imagine.
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He texted me today.
I froze, I did not know what to say.
The man that I loved and wanted to be with.
The man that only say me as a physical object.
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I think that I am bipolar.
I can never get my emotions straight.
Going up into the high that I am so familiar with.
Going down into the pit that is always so pitch black.
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I'm sorry to everyone I've ever hurt.
For the pain that I've inflicted on all of you.
It was unintentional pain.
But does not mean it was not real pain.
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I imperfectly love you.
These are the last words of my lover.
The last things he said before he said goodbye for now.
Only for a short time we said.
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He said he loved me.
But he lied through his teeth.
He said he wanted me.
But he wanted my body.
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Drink coffee or go to bed.
Two thoughts running through my head.
It's four o'clock a little rediculous for a nap.
I can't ignore the fact that I got things to do.
...