Sabotage

My darling, 
do not reach out 
for the man 
who kissed you 
like a battlefield. 
He will not reach back, 
will not catch you 
when you trip 
over his knotted words, 
will not hold your hand 
as you fumble 
in the darkness, 
crying out 
for your lost voice. 
Do not allow 
your eyes 
to bring forth 
oceans for him
when he refused 
to share even
his umbrella. 
I know, darling, 
that you believe 
love 
must be hard-won, 
that it cannot be true 
without a few bruises, 
but I promise you, 
Love 
is not supposed to taste 
like sabotage. 
It is not supposed to feel 
like a prison cell.