Like a bird trapped in a glass cage, you flutter around this town
Without purpose or direction,
diving head first into the edges,
Landing in the barren fields of this place-
So many times that I have lost count.
You do not learn from your mistakes,
Instead you blame me
for not unlocking a door
For which I do not have a key.
I wipe your blood off of the floor,
and bandage the gash on your head,
Now I stare at the key you keep under your bed.
My throat is sore, and my eyes are bloodshot.
Your voice is loud, and your grip is suffocating.
Clenched fists lead to a tongue tied in knots.
Fingernail shaped bruises form on my palm as you force yourself in.
That is when I knew
I lost myself to you.
A slap on your wrist
when you don’t thank the waitress
after she serves you a Cherry Coke,
Gripping the seat
when you slam your foot on the accelerator
after I ask you to take me home.
Begging for an ‘I love you’ in return
as we hang up another tense phone call.
Tying your shoes and pushing you
Out of the darkness we hide away in,
Being lured back into isolation
once you declare
You hate the world most of all.
The moon carries my consciousness away with the tides,
And the nights mean you can no longer see me in my eyes.
I rip you apart, limb from limb
and in the mornings I use my tears to glue you together again.
You say my 3 am panic attacks interrupt you while you count sheep,
So I comfort you as the ringing in my ears grows so loud that I have to scream myself to sleep.