Indifference would set him free.
I could not affect him to such rage. He loves me. He loves me with his hate.
The opposite of love is not hate.
Hate is but a jealous branch
attached at the root of love.
He pretends he does not care, and in pretending…
cares more, hurts more,
loves to hateme more.
I own his brain through my mere existence.
I didn’t ask for it. I didn’t trick or trade for it.
He handed it to me— on his gold platter
This is the power I never wanted.
I want to give it back…
I want to wrap it in love, attach wings, and watch it fly back
to his safe keeping.
But only he can salvage this power—
by digging to the root,
by carving out the pain,
by letting go