it hurts
that you don’t see it.
you act like my mistrust
was born out of nothing,
but you were the first to lie,
the first to leave cracks
in places that used to feel safe.

that smug tone you get
when i’m crying.
you call it honesty,
i call it meticulous destruction.

your words slice,
sharp, practiced.
you know just where to press
to make me flinch.

and still,
i keep trying to explain
my pain to the one
who caused it.

i didn’t come to fight.
i came hoping
maybe tonight
you’d just listen.
but instead
you made me feel

hysterical.   pathetic.
wrong for even hurting.

you laugh at my breaking,
then call me cruel
when i finally shatter.

as if i haven’t spent every argument
trying to express myself to you
while you tear through me
barehanded.

i try,
to be who you want.
to show up gentle.
to be soft with my pain.
to wait until my voice can carry love again.

but you strike
mid sentence,
cut me open
mid.
thought.
and blame me for the blood.

tell me,
does it make you feel good
to reduce me to nothing?
to watch me unravel
because you didn’t like
the shape of my pain?

you lift me
just high enough
to make the fall cruel.

like you only love me
when i’m easy,
when i don’t ask to be treated like i matter.

and when i finally
stop pretending it’s fine,
you call me dramatic.
“not normal”.
parasitic..

maybe whatever softness i had
was buried
when you tore me apart
with your bare mouth.

No human enters this Earth born to serve,
to slave, to suffer, to scramble desperately
away from fire, from threats that mutated
all too rapidly into a guarantee coupled with existence.

No human enters this Earth born to survive,
to brave, to withstand, to endure grievously
through oxygen-starved blood, blockaded lungs
wrapped in wine bruises concealed from all.

No human enters this Earth born to be subservient,
to be exploited, to be depleted, to be drained relentlessly
until heart and eyes and chest become an aching hollow
and there is nothing left for the parasites to devour.

Asked to be safe, to be calm,
with the suction-pores of each palm.
Lips in twist with skin so sour,
drawing blood to drown a flower.
Pulling back, to study faces,
shaking out of sure embraces,
her heels kicked out
and her face soon followed,
and what she left,
I chewed and swallowed.

Don't try to ask me why
   just think of it as my final goodbye

It means you are no longer needed
    you did your part
    and I think you did great