The Enemy


So you turned me into the enemy before I could even give you a reason to hate me. You knew you were wrong, hence the reason why you were hesitant to even face me. I knew early on that you’d be a runner, only you were a special kind, the ones who clung tightly to complacency. Passion scared the hell out of you and the strength that you boasted turned to weakness in my vacancy. Bags forming under your eyes, sleep escaping you because your mind couldn’t stop pacing. But what could I do? Holding tighter hurt you. Pulling you closer just made you push me away. You told me when the day came for you to run, not to chase. Every road was a dead-end one with you. I had literally exhausted every option, and yet if I walked away you’d still see it as another broken promise. Placing the burdens of your past on my shoulders as my load to carry as if my own past hadn’t left me all but weary. And just like I told you I would, I carried both of ours, pushing forward in the face of your sheer resistance. And there you were carrying on as if you were misery’s mistress. Nothing I could do would be enough, however, I caught on earlier than you’d hoped and called your bluff. I began to realize that I’d fallen for your plan to test the waters…and though I called your bluff, it was my hand that you didn’t trust…for no reasons other than your own far out of my hands and beyond my control. Good luck darling, I can only hope that you find your way home.

With Love,

Brittni Pope


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