My life hangs in the pendulum of your hands — pulled from one side to the other as you please.

On any given whim, I’m jerked from the new reality I created without you and reminded how inexplicably linked we will be, for life.

But this isn’t much of a life, and you know it.
It’s how you want it for me.

Life on eggshells, heart in my chest, always waiting for the other shoe to drop.

The anxiety you pumped into my veins still flow freely but baby, my skin is growing thick and your needle is getting blunt.

Enough is enough.

I’m coming up for air and I’m standing my ground. A side of me you’ve never seen before is about to surface; a side of me that you disassembled piece by piece.

Every action has a reaction and baby, a tidal wave is coming.