Hannah Torres Poems

He calls me beautiful as he plays with my hair.
He whispers in my ears he loves me.
Maybe that's why I miss him.
Maybe that's why my body aches for him.
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He touches me with one hand,
while he beats me with the other.
A never ending cycle.
Like a hamster on a wheel, going round and round.
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Are you ok?
A phrase said over and over again.
Words that I'm tired of hearing.
Questions that I'm tired of answering.
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I do not know how I would be able to look you in the eyes and say that it's ok.
When really it's not.
It's like being shot and saying it did not hurt.
When to be honest it hurt worst then you could imagine.
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I imperfectly love you.
These are the last words of my lover.
The last things he said before he said goodbye for now.
Only for a short time we said.
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Why is it the older you get the more hate you have?
When you were a child you found joy in all the little things.
The first snow fall brought happiness.
Playing tag with our friends was our idea of fun.
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Do you love me?
Do you even love me?
You tell me that you love me all the time.
You cry out to me cause you need me.
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I'm done.
I'm done with your random text messages trying to see how I am doing.
I'm done with you thinking it's ok to leave and show up whenever.
I'm done with you looking to see what you can get out of me.
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He texted me today.
I froze, I did not know what to say.
The man that I loved and wanted to be with.
The man that only say me as a physical object.
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I think that I am bipolar.
I can never get my emotions straight.
Going up into the high that I am so familiar with.
Going down into the pit that is always so pitch black.
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