blurred lines and broken glass

I hold the glass shards
in my bloodied hands  
that you press further into my flesh
with every backhanded gesture
of comfort that doesn't feel real  
when you're down another bottle
and I'm left to cry myself to sleep tonight
 
How far we have fallen  
into this strange abyss  
where nothing makes sense  
and the things that made you love me  
are the things you've learned to hate  
in post midnight arguments  
where you tell you love me so much  
but it would be great if I was less disappointing  
 
And I don't know what's real anymore  
because you're not the person I thought I knew  
when words you'll forget rage on your tongue  
and you can't forgive yesterdays slights
that I didn't know you held in such contempt  
until aired unpredictably into the slurred and stumbling night
 
I hold the glass shards  
in my bloodied hands  
that you press further into my flesh
with every backhanded gesture
while you tell me that you love me  
 
I don't know what to believe anymore
 
(C) Indie Adams 2019