Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
It'll be two years soon. Two years, Five psychiatric medications, Six relapses, 20 pounds lost and gained, And lost again, And one suicide attempt. And now I'm here, Still trying to wash your fingerprints Off of my bruised skin. Trying to forget your voice And the feeling of your grip On my wrists and throat. Two years later And I still can't bring myself To say the word out loud. The R word. Two years later and I still Tell myself "You idiot, you should have known." Two years later And every time I pass your house On the way to see my psychiatrist I have half a mind To burn it to the ground. To throw rocks in your windows. To slash the tires On your red jeep. Maybe by next year I'll stop seeing you in my dreams. I'll stop feeling your hands All over me. I'll stop hearing Your voice breaking through tears Telling me you love me. Maybe by next year The scars from when I locked myself in your bathroom And tore myself apart Will fade completely. Maybe by next year I'll actually be able To say the word ****
0
Dec 26, 2016
Dec 26, 2016 at 2:42 AM UTC
Tell your mom I'm sorry about her floor
It'll be two years soon. Two years, Five psychiatric medications, Six relapses, 20 pounds lost and gained, And lost again, And one suicide attempt. And now I'm here, Still trying to wash your fingerprints Off of my bruised skin. Trying to forget your voice And the feeling of your grip On my wrists and throat. Two years later And I still can't bring myself To say the word out loud. The R word. Two years later and I still Tell myself "You idiot, you should have known." Two years later And every time I pass your house On the way to see my psychiatrist I have half a mind To burn it to the ground. To throw rocks in your windows. To slash the tires On your red jeep. Maybe by next year I'll stop seeing you in my dreams. I'll stop feeling your hands All over me. I'll stop hearing Your voice breaking through tears Telling me you love me. Maybe by next year The scars from when I locked myself in your bathroom And tore myself apart Will fade completely. Maybe by next year I'll actually be able To say the word ****
lizzy15
Written by
28/Other
Dec 26, 2016
Dec 26, 2016 at 2:42 AM UTC
Request permission to use this poem