I can feel my nails dig into my palms,
The same way I can feel their words pierce my heart.
Their eyes are lasers that fall on my skull,
And their hands are the whips that scar my body.

Do they realize what they do to me?
Do they know what I’ve become?
Do I even matter to them anymore?
Do they care as they did?

I sit here alone,
Staring at the walls
Of the house that was once mine.
The place I called home.
It doesn’t feel like home anymore.
When did that happen?
When did everything change?
Will it ever feel like home again?

My nails still dig into my palms.
Tiny curves of pain fill my hands,
For now.
They’ll be gone soon,
Those little scars.
But I’ll still be here,
Wondering when my world fell apart.