Your blood flows like ink
And your words taste like *****.

Each look makes me feel
as if I am stuck in a storm
of knives.

I don't need anyone to tell me I'll be okay.
Or that everything is just
fine.

And I certainly did not order a subscription
for your *******.

The fly in my room reminds me
that all will be forgotten,
eventually.
Especially
you.

The bruises that decorate your pale skin,
greet me with a
"you were never mine",
yet,
I was always yours.

The flowers you picked for me sit
and decay,
much like
my kindness for you.

Another tooth falls out everyday.
Which I no longer care about,
Because no one ever listened in the first place.

Her obsession is eating you away,
you're simply
a cooked vegetable
now.

So this time,

close your eyes

when I go

to

hide.