Quaking thunder of enraged heartbeats
rumble in ears.
Labored breath, struggling to steady air,
in and out, in and out.
Betrayal has its own scent, its own flavor.
Senses afflicted by emotion’s electrical charge.
Flat iron taste of injury and injustice
tinge throat and tongue.
Smokey haze fills the air as eyes blur
in rage’s mist.
Tension rippling through muscles and tendons.
Mind screams, “FUCK YOU” at betrayal’s face.
Heart trembles with the desperate pain of hurt.
I love you, betrayal.
I love you, rage.
How beautifully you show me what my mouth will not say again.
I love you, body, for gloriously displaying the truth of my experience.
I love you, heart, for displaying my hurt.
I love you, love, for carrying me when my legs wobble with rage
and my heart’s hurt says it no longer wishes to offer another tear.
I love you, love, for speaking when my mouth is numb and frozen in pain.
I love you, love, because you love me.
Love, you never fail.
You don’t keep track of my betrayals to you.
Teach me to be more like you, love.
Teach me to be love.
Teach me to feel what I feel …
and be love still.
Yet fully in possession of freeing truth.
Because betrayal’s voice cannot be denied.
Yet still I will be love.