They took it. The soulless ones.
They robbed me.
They called it love. But love doesn’t rob.
At least I don’t think so.
I wouldn’t know, quite honestly.
It was gold, what they took. A golden nugget.
A part of me that had gold inside.
It was precious. What they took.
It was vicious. That taking.
They dug it out of me. Clawed, really. With their fingers. Clutched it. Spared no part.
It hurt.
Why does it hurt so? What did I ever do?
To them?
I don’t know.
I suppose I’ll never know.
I don’t know
If I want to know.
I know I don’t DESERVE to know
ANYTHING
About them.
Certainly, not the least of which, whether
They ever even loved me
As their own.
Observations from the Brink 