He wrote of the scars he gave her Despite the fact that they have never met He never spoke of the scars he left on me, Still saying that it was my fault. The night he drunkenly kissed me and then called me her name He never talks about that night Just laughs it off
He drank over losing her, He cried over her, As he played their song on loop.
But me, I am his dispensable second prize pony
Do you think if he knew how bad it was, he would hold me closer?
If he knew about laying on the bathroom floor, So angry that I could not speak So bitter that my blood turned to venom So broken that I was not a being anymore
I could not even escape it in my sleep. Waking up in tears Like a soldier dreaming of the battlefield
The battlefield was inside me My enemy, The shadows that resembled him There were no bombs Just whispers that wrapped around my neck "You. Are. Nothing."
He left me alone.
As I laid on that arctic bathroom floor, He was planning a life with her I was the suicidal skeleton in his closet
He left me alone..
At the lowest point of me Among dreams of flights off of roofs without an umbrella
He left me alone...
Now he says that he loves me And wants me to smile as if nothing ever happened His second stepford wife
A little piece of me is still on that bathroom floor Looking up at me Like a gruesome funhouse mirror
But he doesn't see them He doesn't want to I want to scream, "Look at them!"
Mere acknowledgement like penicillin Antibiotics eating the gangrenous, festering wounds he left
Maybe if I looked like her, Spoke like her He would see But alas, I will only ever be me...
Do you think if he knew how bad it was, he would hold me closer?