I murdered every single piece of her in order to survive her.
I put a part of me to rest that day, concluded a chapter.
Violence had always persisted between us, it had a smile on its face.
We would never be on the same page, we would shout at each other
From one page to the other, wrestling our way forward and backward.
There was so much space within us that one feeling always came in multitudes
And what had been pure became rotten in milliseconds.
We will always be a part of each other’s stories.
We can pretend muteness, blindness, ignorance and deafness.
Despite her belligerence, her cowardice, my fears, my insecurities,
We keep fuelling our lives, in one way or another, if we want to or not.
Some bonds cannot be denied and despite their weaknesses, their strengths,
They meant something in the long run.
“Self-Portrait with Two Pupils, Marie Gabrielle Capet and Marie Marguerite Carreaux de Rosemond” by Adélaïde Labille-Guiard (1749-1803)