Why do we characterize our relationships in the bad things that they are not,
instead of the bad things they are.
He's never beaten me
or bruised my skin.
But I can't find my self-esteem
In the bottom of the silence in his voice,
after I've whispered that I love him like a desperate plea.
I can only feel the cracks his sideway glances have started..
But he hasn't cheated on me.
He hasn't left me.
But he doesn't hold my hand anymore.
Only whispers "I love you" to my naked breasts,
only calls me beautiful when my body is pressed against his.
He runs to me,
but only when I'm laying down.
Compliments my outfit when it warrants easy access.
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