There’s a gaping hole in my chest
Proof I’ve loved, a massacre on my boots
I brace a hand hoping it’ll be enough
Hoping I will be enough

It’s said that the human body replaces itself
With entirely new cells every seven years.

In seven years, I will be free from your touch.

In seven years your fingerprints will
No longer be burned into my skin.
In seven years I will be able to
Wash my body and finally feel clean.

In seven years I will be able to kiss
Without getting sick in a cold toilet,
Sobbing sobbing sobbing,
Because my tongue tastes of you.

In seven years, maybe I won’t
Lock my bedroom doors,
Fearing a monster that lives
Not under the bed.

In seven years, one more woman
Will pretend to feel free.

sometimes we don’t survive
we don’t live to tell our story
we don’t live to change our fate

i think you deserve a soft epilogue,
my love.
you are a good person
and  you've suffered enough.

It’s a heavy weight to carry,
This life you gave me,
In exchange for your own.
I don’t mean to be ungrateful
when I sob to you
“I don’t want to keep on living either”

the taste melts on my tongue
little bits of crunch between my teeth
it pains me this very piece
won’t slide across the table
making your eyes glossy with delight