Prick

He leaves a thorn in my sides as each passing day goes by that we are together.

Toxic relationships grow and grow. The thorns prick my skin one by one; day by day until there’s no surface left to puncture me. He’s taken all of me.

So when the time finally comes, and I’ve mustered enough bravery to leave and let it all go, it takes one day at a time to pluck out each thorn he’s left in me.

The recovery is painful, they say. The recovery is hard.

And as each day I pull with might, I feel the twinge of throbbing memories being yanked out. The petals glisten and cheer.

The buds start to say, it’s one step closer to leaving it behind. Thorns no longer impaling my emptiness but piling up on the ground where I left the rest of that darkness.

 

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