"Do you write poetry
about my broken bones?
Do you find metaphors
for the way you burned
down the bridges we built?
I bet people think it’s beautiful,
I bet they think it’s poetic
the way you destroyed me.
I bet you tell them
falling in love with me
was an extraordinary artistic choice,
Destroying people
is not an art form.
Coloring people with shades and values
of black and blue does not
make you an artist.
There is nothing poetic
about reaching inside of someone
to take what they told you
never to touch.”