IHTPIL

Missing pages, ripped out to preserve what’s left of my sanity

Volumes upon volumes of memories I’d sooner burn than let resurface

her eyes as she waited for an answer, blue saucers stained red begging me to be better —

Guilt that the boiling showers I take can’t even begin to scrub away

I peel back my skin, praying that I won’t be completely evil underneath

Ill succinctly throw my words like daggers when I feel I’m in danger

In a corner backed away, I’ll respond in the worst ways

No thoughts just words & they spill out of me before I can contain

I’ll watch the faces of those who love me twist, capable they did not suspect I could be

The worst people hide as the kindest

The act can be excused, where it came from is where it should’ve died — trust me these are obituaries I’ve written in real time.

Redemption or forgiveness is futile, a heart this sorrowed only knows cause & effect — the only thing it can provide is pain

Insístanse only makes it worse

I’ll choose to leave each time, you see, staying only means bidding time

an intermission until next time

Bridges and buildings burnt down to a crisp, by the only arsonist with more ash than fire