Malum

Malum: Part 2

When I was eighteen, I had a crush. I fell for him instantly. Fast. I hit rock bottom at the speed of light. The impact cut me in half, exploding against the pavement. My blood spilled out into the cracks of the asphalt. But I let his words mend me back together slowly. The way he looked at me was the stitch to each wound. The way his lips owned me was every bruise. The way his hands always felt safe was every scar. The same hands that broke me, healed me. Those hands held power over me, and that was my fault. I had a baby with him, damn well would have given my life for him. I don’t need to anymore, because now he’s just going to take it.

When I was eighteen, I didn’t just have a crush, I fell in love. I know why they call it falling. Because you fucking fall. Where did I fall to, you ask?

Six feet under.