Don't let it rain,
Let it pour.
Wash over my body and soul.

Don't let it spit,
Let it pour.
Drown my sorrowful soul.

Don't let it drizzle,
Let it pelt.
Envelope my broken soul.

They climb up each wall, curved like the sun's breast,

At sunrise.

Then crawl, listless, to the rough ledge

To commit suicide.

They plummet.

Taking my aspirations as they dive.

Two teardrops with crushed hearts,

And, now, crushed heads.

Sunset.

A name is a name
to which someone is giving

for how they act
or how they look

for what they do
or what they say

But the name you have given
me is none of the above

for I did not act how you say
I do not look how you think

I did not do what you whispered
I did not say what you spread

I am not fake
and I am not a loner

Because to be fake
is to act like someone you are not

And to be a loner
I would have to want to be alone

But I do not know who I am
so I cannot act like someone else

And I cannot leave this ****** house
because of the scars etched across my skin where your words inflicted them

I am not what you say I am
I do not what you say I do
I just try to be the best possible me there is
Without knowing me at all

Sometimes I get one of those nostalgic feelings rush through me whenever I get a whiff of fresh plaster or spackle. It reminds me of all those times my dad would have to patch up another hole in one of the walls. At one point he would only do it once a week. When you know that there’ll just be more the next day, why not wait a while and fix them all at the same time? Eventually he stopped fixing them altogether. I used to think it meant it was okay and that when I got angry enough I could just put a hole in the wall too and add to the collection of broken bits of my family. When my parents discovered the accumulation of chasms in my wall, my dad made me learn how to fix them because I was not allowed to react the same way as my brother. Needless to say, I rarely put my hand or foot through the walls after the first 2 times I had to fix them. I wish there was some way they could have managed to get my brother to fix the voids he’d created. Perhaps, he’d have learned how much the damage you inflict can affect those around you. I know I certainly did.

Leaving without a trace, your love vanished. I am distraught.