we weren’t so much cut
from the same cloth
as ripped from it

frayed edges, loose threads
two pieces of a whole
that would never quite

but the feeling of being
with someone as broken
as beautifully messy
as awkward and kind
as quirky and playful
as me

seemed meant to be

so much so that i refused to
believe you
when you showed me
who you really are

what can i say about love
that hasn’t already been said
about insanity

the man who belittled me
mocked me
threatened me
insulted me
shut the door in my face
shut out my tears
had the audacity
to keen like an irish widow
when i mustered the courage
to leave

i will always have
rough edges
loose threads
i will always be quirky
beautifully messy

i just need to be more careful
about inviting other patterns
to join the fabric of my being