2/365 This, it's an apology letter to the both of us, for how long it took me to let things go

I am fully aware that if I were to die this afternoon,

you'd still be scratching your head at my wake.

One flavored signals have never my strong suit,

I've always been a fan of the mixer.

Hate notes in my journal,

Love letters in my text messages

And when they flip, the transition is seamless.

When it came to choosing my favorite color,

I narrowed it down to both red and green.

I know you've always felt the hint of stop in my "go."

In bed, with your hands around my torso,

I'd secretly implement a game of red light, green light.

And though you didnt know your hands were playing:

It was always clear to both of us when they lost.

I counted on you taking the blame. 

No caring person looks a battered woman in the eyes and tells her it her fault.

Even when they should.

You spent countless nights cursing your own name.

I know this because it's how I spent my time before I met you.

It's called transfer of energy.

They say once you're abused,

you either become the healer or an abuser yourself.

So matter of fact...

I bet they didn't see me coming.

Wolf in sheeps clothing,

I bet they didn't know I'd play you like that.