it's another early AM when salt tears splash my face,
they sting, but they are daisies compared to the swords I have endured with you.
it's almost half a year since you took what was not yours to take,
with your mumbled excuses and your dismissive gestures.
i brace myself, the pain looms again, i shout at it to GO AWAY,
the reminder of what you did, but it is a pain that paracetomal will not subside, because the pain is a memory;
the increasing anxiety, the thought of you inside of me when i did not want you to be there.
GO AWAY.