Love Bomb

Who needs love anyway? 

Not me. I think about love 

the same as a grenade

and I never look forward 

to having my heart 

blown to pieces by someone 

who should have never 

been holding it in the first place. 

I don’t need to hear I love you, 

like it’s some kind of life support 

that promises to make me matter, 

as you pull the plug on the promise 

you never planned on keeping anyway. 

No thank you. 

I’d rather you pull the plug first, 

so I can die without hearing the 

infamous I love you bullshit. 

It’s impossible to love me. 

If you try, be ready for war 

because my perfected ability 

to not let anyone get too close 

is like a shot gun blast 

you’ll never hear, 

and I refuse to give you the power 

to make me turn off my safety. 

I’ve been ripped to shreds 

enough to know, love is a fight 

I’ll always run away from. 

Do I believe in love? 

Yes, I believe it’s a battle 

I’m never walking into again 

because the only reward 

in the end is a broken heart.

It’s not that I don’t believe in love, 

but love has never proven itself to me 

the same way heartbreak has. 

Love is a promise wrapped in a bomb

and we all know how that ending 

plays out in a million pieces. 

Love is a fight club, 

where one person is always 

fighting harder

while the other person

just stands there 

and takes the beating. 

Like pulling your spine out 

in the name of love 

and giving it as a gift

you will never get back. 

Love is uncertainty tying your hands, 

disappointment blindfolding you, 

trust kicking your ass

while they all laugh out disregard 

until you projectile vomit the words 

I love you too. 

Love taught me about compromise 

and how the joke is always on me, 

it taught me that for better or worse 

needs to have a few footnotes.

It taught me that losing yourself 

is the easiest thing to do 

and finding yourself again is nearly 

impossible, because you are hidden away 

in someone else’s shadow. 

Love showed me how to close down, 

hide my heart, not be my own person. 

It showed me how to be stuck, 

how to feel caged, how to want to run away. 

Love taught me how to say 

fuck this. 

It’s just not worth it to me. 

So don’t get too comfortable 

sitting next to me, 

I want you gone by morning. 

-Stephanie Bennett-Henry

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One thought on “Love Bomb

  1. I’ve never read another’s poetry that exactly and perfectly 100% described my life, my love, my marriage, my heart. I hope you don’t mind but I copied it I I my journal giving you credit at the end should someone find it long after I’ve left this world. If you’d like to be Facebook friends and share poetry, look me up. http://www.facebook.com/ravenzpayne
    I write my poetry under the Pseudonym Raven Payne. I do t share my poetry often because assholes steal shit and claim it as their own. Look me up. Would love to talk to you.

    Liked by 1 person

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