Don’t touch me,
Your hands as I remember are ice cold
Full of spite and accompanied by the taste of blood
And sick and head splitting migraines
Don’t use words that don’t suit the shape of your mouth
Sorry is the word used by those who feel
Sorry and love are feelings felt
How can you feel when your eyes see nothing but you
You and your fists and your words
Words that cut as sharp as your fists wound
Who were you to do that
Who are you to come back and live
As a ghost in my hall
Who are you to shadow my decisions
And who are you to place your hands on me in memory,
To cause violent shivers when I’m on my own
Who are you that make my memory a place I must hide from
Who made you a god
Who gave you power
Who made you untouchable, fucking godless
What kind of hellish world spat forth
somebody who could destroy
Like you do
No comments:
Post a Comment