I can't find the words to smash in your face like a brick, or tie around your neck like a noose. I want to scream how much I hate you until your ears ring, ***** my hands with your sweet nothings, nothing but lies as you took another beneath you. Was I ever enough? Even if I'd given you the last simplicity of my being, would it ever have been enough? I wish my words could slap you hard like yours did: "****** up", "ignorant", "I could've done better". But my tongue bleeds with how long I've been holding them in, sharp like razor blades on the insides of my cheeks, wishing so to carve out yours like you did a fifteen year old girl's innocense. Sweet child, if only I could hold her to my chest, and reassure her that she was never the impure one.