You threw me off balance,
tipped my world off its axis,
forcing me into my own black hole.
And though I wasn't whole to begin with,
you went ahead and ate my heart out
until you licked your lips clean of my taste
and nothing was left on my plate.
But yet my heart still aches and echoes
in the place that you used to live
and my eyes are filled to the brim,
threatening to splash over
into yet another waste bin of tears
and violent fantasies.
I want to throw insults at you that hurt
as much as your silence killed me
and pick you apart like you pointed out my flaws.
You have me battered and bruised,
leaking fresh blood from an ancient wound.

And all I ever did was give.
And all you ever did was take.

I invested in you and you charged me interest,
but I guess that was the basis of our relationship.
I was the beggar
And you were the chooser
because you always loved me less
than I loved you.

And I think you turned me into a feminist
because of your “manly” lust for power.
Your need for complete control,
and the desire you had to be in charge of our entire relationship,
knocked the wind out of me
and the ground out from under me.
Your shadow tied my fingers behind my heart
and silently sealed my lips closed,
leaving me with only my mind to fight back
with no means of touching you.

You cancerous cell, you filthy parasite,
feeding off me to strengthen only yourself.
You sicken me to my stomach
to the point where I can’t breathe
and I want to throw you up,
your broken words and your empty promises,
but your virus won’t leave my system.

You are a rare strain of this disease
with no cure or medication
to numb the pain that wracks my body.

You are fatal.
And all I desire is
that one day
I can wake up,
peel this heart off my sleeve,
and finally have peace of mind.