I split myself open on the kitchen floor,
so I can see every part of me
that loves you.
Blood spreads slow,
black as creek water at midnight,
and I wonder if youβll slip in it
when you come home.
I claw my own name off the walls,
leave the plaster raw,
because you should never have to see
the thing that keeps ruining us.
Your voice is still soft in my head,
a hymn gone wrongβ
I keep praying,
but God wonβt look at me.
I chew the inside of my cheek
until the taste of bitter earth fills my mouth.
If I spit it out,
will you believe me
when I say I can be good?
I was made to love youβ
bone, sinew, fever dreamβ
but I keep tearing holes in us,
and you keep bleeding quietly.
One day youβll be gone,
and Iβll crawl through the house
on my hands and knees
licking up the blood
just to feel close to you.
πππππππππππ€ 