half of something

Half empty half full,
It all depends on what angle you have the glass at,
Because all I see is that poison that fills the glass,
Tempted and ashamed all at once,
Because even though I try,
The glass always winds up in my grasp.
The red liquid coats my lips,
Gives me that allure and seduction I wish to ooze,
Blinding me to the effects I’ll feel in the morning,
And pretend it will be the last time,
But I know I’ll convince myself that it wouldn’t happen again,
That I know control and can practice it,
But I learned from my momma,
The best-kept secrets lay in plain sight,
A glass for stress, a glass for the pain,
A glass because you’ve endured so much wrong from him,
Even though he has no idea you’re hurting this much,
Because he has his own glass to fight, and the shards cut deep into both of you,
The damage is lasting, and it seems like that those glasses never drain,
But I promise they will,
When you learn to accept the flaws and sins and temptation of a damning love,
And know that they don’t excuse the wrong, but help to learn how to fix them,
And then the glass will warp and change right before your eyes.

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