Sometimes, it’s just a choice.


The choice that makes you stay in

Night after night

Wetting the towels for a forehead

Burning, burning inside

Searing your days and nights

It is that choice

To put blinders to rudeness

And listen, very very closely to the other signs

The cries they stifle, the shame they hide

The guilt streaming through their eyes

Yet you choose to love

Not just on the outside

Not just the pretty, the made-up, the celebrated

It is a choice

To see the skin and bone

And still want to take them home

Coz life with them might have days of hell

Yet there isn’t a gate in heaven that could tempt you yet.

You choose

To limp on shattered silences

Hanging on to being hung on

You made the choice

You knew when love called

To the last breath

It would be a fight.

No winners, no losers,

You chose to love that fight.

Your choice

To go or not to go….


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