I hate that
Whenever
You
Are interested in someone
Else,
You stop talking to
Me
And
I
Hate that
I
Don't even miss
You.

Bedrooms are intimate. Showing someone exactly where you breathe is special. To see it, they have to worship every breath that goes in and out, even if your exhale is poison.
The walls still smell like you
Last week, I pulled the sheets off the bed. I placed them in the burn pile.
I do not wish to see you.
This week, I painted everything a new color, a darker shade.
I pulled down the Christmas lights and let my stars burn out. I placed them in the burn pile.
I do not wish to see you.
I ripped stuffed animals off the shelves and letters off the dresser. Even the photo album went in the burn pile.
I do not wish to see you.
The flowers off the desk... They were dead anyway.
I do not wish to see you.
Everything in a bedroom is sacred. Not everyone belongs there; you sure didn't. You kissed everything with fiery lips and charcoal dust and I am still sweeping up. I continue to find your ashes in my bed.
I do not wish to see you.
You took everything. You took my air and gave me back poison. I couldn't tell the difference. But the worst thing you took from my room is me.
I do not wish to see you.
I do not wish to see you.
*I put you in the burn pile. I see you in the flames. I see you everywhere.
I start to tear at the drywall.

You put

Me

Together.  



You tear

Me

Apart.  



You shock

Me

Into silence.  



You rip

Apart my wings

And hold me down.  



You tell

Me

To suffer.  



You tell

Me

It'll be okay.  



But how

Will

Things be fine?  



With no wings to fly

Away.

No heart to feel my

Pain.

No pieces left to

Take.

What causes panic is having him push over the passwords to your body with one password override, one guaranteed to work on every girl passing by, but he chose you.

What causes panic is waking up to a cold knife held to your throat, being held there with three single words with no defined meaning except to you because you can't leave him in the nightmares.

What causes panic is feeling the sick way he showed his love branded into every scar on your body, for anyone to read the story.

What causes panic is feeling him hold your hand through crowds, watching him pull out his eyeballs have them rolling behind you like some sick parade just to protect you from those others.

What causes panic is knowing that he will always have a way in because he broke all the locks and pushed access denied access denied access denied to anyone else that tried.

Because, *******, he says "I love you."

And you can't love others.

Austyn met a bad boy.
He ****** her like a *****.
She hid and hid and hid and hid
Because maybe she deserved more.

Austyn met just some boy.
He hit her one time or maybe four
Austyn shrugged and told her mother,
"What's a little more?"

Austyn ****** a good boy.
His girlfriend was such a bore.
Austyn was mistaken for entertainment.
She hated herself some more.

Austyn is a little girl.
Daddy's creeping through the door.
Austyn is 16, alone, in bed, bleeding and screaming:

"Please
No more,
No more."