In my dreams I smash up your things.

I throw every belonging off the shelves and shatter glass against the walls.

I find littered pink B papers and tin foil wrappings to remind me of all the women you would have rather fucked than me.

I count it in papers in the trash and as little jewels pinned to cardboard.

I’m in an apartment made up and manufactured just to hurt you.

I long to embaress and expose you just as you always did to me.

My mind reminds me when my heart questions why not again.

Fuck you and everything that you did to me…the things you still do in the reaches of my mind.