Awful or Divine

I don’t forgive you anymore,

though I did a thousand times before.

You said I had the right to leave,

but I stayed, believing what you’d speak.

I let you hurt me over again,

called it love instead of pain.

Now every “sorry” sounds the same,

and I regret the way I stayed.

You burned me alive with every word you said,

then froze me to death with your silence instead.

I was fire, I was smoke, I was barely breathing,

loving you felt warm while you were leaving.

Are you awful, are you divine?

I swear you’re both at the same damn time.

‘Cause nobody cruel could look that kind,

and nobody kind could leave me behind.

Why’d you waste all the words we had?

Communication wasn’t meant to hurt this bad.

Language and love were beautiful things,

so why couldn’t you use them gently?