Your words don’t have to come out of your mouth anymore because I envision them. I envision them when I am walking in an unknown place, at 1 am and I am scared shitless but too weak to run. I envision them when I decide to sit in the rain instead of sitting out in the sun. I envision them when I accidentally cut myself, looking at the drops of blood falling on the floor. I envision them when I am on the bridge. Looking at the water flowing, always moving at the same pace because your words go through me like wind whipping fast past my hair. They were never words of encouragement, never words of kindness. But quick words of hatred and loathing, and now I know that when the plate hits the wall of my kitchen, and I look down to see the shattered pieces, instead of picking it up I like to just leave it there. Just how you left me. Broken.