i got out of bed
  and all that was
  in my head was
  venom

  and all i could think of
  was breaking your
  phones

  so you couldn't call
  anyone,
  so you'd be
  isolated
  too

  so grandpa wouldn't
  know
  the inside of my brain
  so intimately

  because you don't
  shut up
  because i don't have
  any privacy
  because i am your
  pity party
  (because i'm crazy)

  so you'd have a
  reason
  to hate me

  (that was
  something i could
  control)

  but now
  all i can think of
  is the
  *******
  fear of
  abandonment

  and how all i do
  is sleep
  and spend two hours
  in the bathroom
  standing there
  eavesdropping
  staring at the wall
  wishing i was dead
  (wishing you were
  dead, too)

  and i want to
  break my hands
  (so i couldn't do it)

  and i want to
  break your phones
  (because you would
  hit me
  again, and i am
  scared
  you'll never stop)