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52
Victor, Collect Your L
<p>Dear Victor,</p><p><br/></p><p><br/></p><p>I was only a child -and you knew it</p><p>I had dreams, blueprints for a life,</p><p>A life you were meant to shape, not shatter </p><p>You came to me with a tongue sweeter than diabetes,</p><p>And I - naive - trusted you, handed you everything I had</p><p>You made me feel -</p><p>like, more than a woman ever could</p><p><br/></p><p><br/></p><p>I was supposed to drown in those eyes for eternity </p><p>And now I have to watch a stranger's child carry them </p><p>Oh that shimmering chest was meant to be my fortress</p><p>And the shoulders above them, my headrest </p><p>Now that I stand - deprived, abandoned, betrayed </p><p>All I have to say, dear Victor, is this</p><p><br/></p><p>Thunder. fire. you.</p><p><br/></p><p><br/></p><p><br/></p><p>Quick backstory: we had a fun 10-minute writing game at my writers’ meetup, and this is what spilled out. Rough around the edges, but I thought I’d share anyway.</p><p><br/></p><p><br/></p><p><br/></p><p><br/></p><p><br/></p>
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