Part V · Reclamation
Faithful
Her voice arrives quietly,
carefully placed,
like she's afraid
her words might bruise me.
She says she's obnoxious,
but I’ve never seen it.
She’s walked through what I have:
infidelity,
abuse.
Unfortunately.
I worry about her.
She reminds me
of how you and I began,
but she's different.
I don’t believe
she'd hurt me
in the ways you did.
With her,
I breathe freely—
something I never could
with you.
Her embrace smells
of vanilla,
grounding me softly,
reminding me
I am wanted exactly as I am,
not as the ruins
you made of me.
With you,
I tiptoed through life,
bracing for eruptions,
always ready
to flee your anger.
She tiptoes gently too,
still scarred by the past,
still wary of harm.
A quiet,
cautious dance
around old memories.
It’s sobering,
to see our wounds mirrored,
to find comfort
in silent understanding.
She helps me unpack
what you left.
Gently.
One wound at a time.