i picked your grief out of your garden like fresh strawberries
and let them rot in my stomach
i inhaled every rotten word you spoke to me,
and swallowed them like shards of glass down the back of my throat
i spared every last breath
attempting to console you for the parts of yourself
that you damaged me with
what right do you have to tell me that i was the one who cared less
Jul 2, 2024
Jul 2, 2024 at 9:13 PM UTC
i picked your grief out of your garden like fresh strawberries
and let them rot in my stomach
i inhaled every rotten word you spoke to me,
and swallowed them like shards of glass down the back of my throat
i spared every last breath
attempting to console you for the parts of yourself
that you damaged me with
what right do you have to tell me that i was the one who cared less
