You snipped my red string with scissors constructed of
guilt and manipulation
And wound it so tight, the fingertips he once kissed turned blue
In hasty desperation to make a forced connection, your clumsy fingers
tangled
end to end, artificial “fate”s sealed with ****** knots and whispered promises of false hopes and starry-eyed, idealistic dreams of naive men              
You twirled me in circles until  dizziness felt like love, until I was convinced that I could only see straight with you next to me
Your kisses tasted like passion and coffee and deceit
Your touch seared my broken skin and left me gasping for more

You make me figuratively hate the skin that I'm in
And I want to claw it off my bones, layer by layer, until I literally hate the skin I'm in                            
How dare I let tears fall at night and sob myself into submission
To you
And your hurtful words
Your hurtful silence
The knife in your hand
The knife in your back
And the scissors she used to sever
Her string and yours