“Oxymoron-ish,” I know.
To feel chaos
often I must remove myself.
From what I deemed “love.”
Then I stoically see
a belligerent soul
employing subtleties,
unable to formulate
any semblance
of order in life, his world.
But, oh, I know
I warrant surviving.
Free of guilt.
To saunter among
winds on high.
So it’s in my trust,
my tolerant heart
I left his blistering mess behind.”
-Melody Jean
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