I will always want to give
And give—
Until my heart is bleeding and raw.

And your apathy
Weighs in the air
As much as my mud-filled lungs.

And even when I know
You’re no good for me,
Still—I am smothered by your tyranny.

With a belt around her neck
She doesn’t stop to check
Who her choices affect
But what did I expect.

With a heavy hollow heart and a soft somber smile,
I ask her if she really cares.

She says that she does,
But it feels like she doesn’t.



-------------------------------------------------------------­-------
I want to believe you,
I really do,
But there's not much more
I can endure.

As I listen to the soft stomping of feet
and
The distant sounds of people murmuring,
I think to myself
this feels
familiar;
this feels
like home.

The cold air smelled like fabric softener
the same way
The house felt when my mother cooked.

And it feels like I can breathe again.

I knew she didn’t care
When she said
Sorry to him
And not to me
For hanging herself

Sometimes I still think I can hear his breathing,
Deep heavy breaths that whistled out his nose from years of smoking,
Even though I know he’s long gone.  

And when he was eating ice cream, the smacking always followed, just barely loud enough so that I strained to hear the TV. His grey eyebrows raised high with his eyes wide and mouth gaping open, completely and utterly entranced while he gulped and slurped down his midnight snack with a spoon that was too big for my mouth.