To some extent
I always knew
that there must be something in your heart
that resists my presence.
Which is in conflict
whether in flesh or in soul
because of me.
And still craves more of me.
I think your heart never got used to me.
It just got used to resisting me.
You just need my presence in your life
to maintain the state of chaos and struggle
that has now become your natural habitat.
As she hands me a slice of peeled apples,
I wonder how many people
she has fed.
How many felt the gratitude for it,
only for the time its taste
lasted on their tongue.
What it must feel like,
peeling apples for your daughter
while she is slowly peeling you away
from her life.
Unknowingly and ruthlessly,
looking for something
better out there.
While she hurls words like
“You won’t ever understand”.
But she must be used to it now
getting used to this hurt
is maybe the only way to survive love.