Survivors remorse for the initial heartbreak. Its times like the final goodbyes when a sense of relief surrounds the blackened spirit from the negative energy feeding into its flesh. No one said love would leave a whimsical ride of endeavors onto the body. But no one also said the recovery time could last you a lifetime of resentment towards the one you use to love. Take this as a learning experience from a women’s perspective. Never having the courage to fall in the pits of love’s reckoning force. But rather be in love within her inner self to appreciate what no man could ever wrap his scent of commitment to see she is none other than a broken spirit left with the scraps starving at the sense of a touch of one’s pulse. Looking beyond the orgasmic pleasures of his length, but what can he bring to the table other than a chiseled structure that he has been getting him to where he is today. That too shall fade with the hurt within your chest that was once filled with the thought of planning a life with him. Be the creation that is forced to be cared as a fragile structure. At the slip of his fingers, you too can vanish leaving him with the pieces to scrape like the damage he left on your heart. Lessons of the love game, never dish what you can’t afford. It cost your heart more to recover from the scrapes by the daggers his words sliced through your once inner peace known as loving yourself.
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