beat my skin,
and weld it away,
you have stolen my tongue,
made my stomach a pit full of knots,
you took the flowers out my home,
and left me a carcass,
I am tired of feeling so helpless,
so relentlessly broken from the thought of you,
why,
oh why,
must I bury these bones in the ground,
when I wasn’t the killer,
neither is it a grave I will pray at,
yet here I am,
bleeding my heart for the treacherous being of you,
to come fuck with my energy,
and make a song out of it,
you happy child,
you happy happy boy,
you rung the gasoline into my hair,
set it alight,
and ran off with the shampoo,
I cannot wash you out,
cannot get you off my skin,
cannot forget you,
Why as women, in love do we become so foolish,
Why when something does not serve us,
when something does not uplift us,
why do we still yearn to it,
turn to it, as if it is saving grace,
He was not the One,
Neither will he be the only one,
But by the damned earth,
he has taken a single quartet of this heart,
and made a harmony out of this pain,
I wish it to stop,
I wish for it to be over,
Yet that cannot be,
as I am the only one wanting to settle things,
in this cold blooded war,
while you smile,
with your palms in the hands of another,
and I haven’t even been able to speak to you,
just grudges,
and silent nods,
I had so many words while with you,
had all the time in the world
through this mouth a vessel of echoing all that was inside,
now all I do is write in private,
cannot send you love letters any more,
you have taken the words from my mouth,
and fed them to frogs.