Honey I’m not made of stone,
It hurts.
Loving you the way I do,
It hurts.
Watching you pretend to not remember,
It hurts.
Watching you forget our time together,
It hurts.
Watching your interlocked fingers with your lover,
It hurts.
Rocking our child to sleep every night, alone.
It hurts.
No kisses for your sins can atone,
It hurts.
I don’t want you, but he would do; your clone.
It hurts.
The way you move (on) with life without me,
It hurts.
That I’m stuck in a life we had decades ago,
That I can’t shake off the feel of your hands on my bare skin hurts.
My tears don’t fall too often,
But your knife is cutting me too deep
Honey I’m not made of stone,
It hurts.
Monaleesaah is a black skinny writer and singer, who can be a substitute therapist, and can be baited and thus kidnapped with pounded yam.
P.s she loves, white, black and grey
