You found out I called you crazy,
but to be fair you were the same man who
stabbed himself on purpose and
picked at wounds just to see how well the scars held up
under your knife.
The same man who woke up with bruises for hands and
bourbon for breath.
You always slept with your eyes open,
glazed over like a snake ready to strike.
You said this was from spending 19 years locked in a cage
like a feral animal.
I see that didn't teach you anything.
Some beings can never be rehabilitated;
they should have never released you back into the wild.
You picked roses because they reminded you of your dead mother
and once you made me talk to her ashes
and afterwards you threw me on your pool table
and made a mess of me.
You said it was for your memory,
I used it for my art.
You would cut me up for fun and stalk me for pleasure.
You say bourbon and *** makes you feel real again.
You would always tell me I was too pretty for you and
we would laugh along to gory movies until our eyes half closed in drunken lust and all I wanted to do was drink from you.
You would lock your door and turn on the fairy lights
and touch me real slow and hard until I became cold from the
beating of your heart next to mine.
You always said you were going to leave,
I never thought you'd just disappear
and still be 5 minutes away from me.
You are a ghost that I wish would haunt me a little more often
because I am reduced to ashes now just like your cremated mother.
You turned me rabid and mean.
You never told me how to make this stop.
I just keep bleeding from the wounds you left.
You turned me into the same animal you are.
