I poured myself into you,
as if you were a mold.
My imperfections spilling through your skin,
till you coughed up my failures.

I looked at your hands
and I found my callouses.

Broken and stained,
I slept on the couch.
Your skin started to feel cold,
I could feel it flaking off.
I have deteriorated you.

When I cut my own throat,
you choked on my blood.