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Version 2.0

I can't pretend I don't love him though I try and try

Even though my soil is cracked and he waters it with lies

His roots are too deep inside of me

So God let lightening strike me down to set me free

For he uses our leaves to shelter him

And I feel no different than the rest of them

He can't understand why only my twigs grow

And is hurt by what I don't say or let my dry bark show

I was willing to give him my nutrients, my all

So he could survive his winter and fall

He and I connect like the branches on a tornado tree

So maybe time is needed to untangle me

Like seeds on the ground I dig in and pray

His storm clouds will clear and fade away

He may flourish or he may not

But I hope he finds what he has sought

With a cool breeze and time he will make his way

To being the tree no wind could sway

Not weak with rot, but clean in a tornado-less sky

Similar to a new sapling

Bending with eager for what ahead may lie

Version 1.0

Knife in the back, the front, the sides

I try to escape you through prayers and cries

 God, what hold does he have on me?

He gives nothing, but takes his share of plenty

 He uses women and treats them like day old trash 

The same as a pimp getting paid with blood and cash

I was willing to give my him my all, my everything

In hopes that one day I would adorn his ring

 But when I saw what I saw, I should have never looked back

Because my eyes told my heart to break like a heart attack

He questions why I can't say it, or show him more

But most days, I feel just like one of his whores

 I'm still here and remain, but question why

Even now that I stopped believing his lies

Who knows, God, what your will may be

But he and I connect like branches on a tornado tree

 Like roots to the ground I fight to cling, in case one day

He becomes a man, that pushes his demons away

I sometimes wish the branches would die

I'm too tired of having to tell him goodbye

 My heart shreds into a million pieces

and lays like Party confetti in the floor's creases'

He may change or he may not

But I pray he finds the peace he’s always sought

 That title, the trust, the sober time

Even if I end up breaking off of his sad rhyme

He may be hurt, but he will move on

and realize that clean is like breaking dawn

 No drama, no drugs, just a tornado-less sky

And hope and faith in what ahead may lie.