you have your hand on my curtains
you wont let the light in

the only thing in my medicine cabinet is cough drops
maybe i should take all of them

you filled my bathtub with sand
and hid my dogs leash

you washed all of my clothes
and wasted all of my bleach

every utensil in my drawer has turned to plastic
and the channels on tv have all turned to static

so i sit in the corner and hold my breath
but you wont allow anything
to bring along my death

you tried to repair
the home we made,
but every stair
buckled under your weight,
and every wall
peeled at your touch

every word you speak of me
is mixed with poison,
but you created it
with your own tongue

i said id never
rip you apart,
but that was
before
you turned me
into a monster.