My favorite place to be is not on the bathroom floor and yet, I find myself here more than I’d like.
The cold cement isn’t soothing but it stings my skin right.
The way I remember I’m alive.
The space heater on and burning my shins, the shower in the back hits ceramic splashes.
I have cuts on my thighs and chunks missing from my feet.
Each step I take reminds me.
I remember crawling to your seat.
This movie plays on repeat.
Images pass in my mind, I push the colors down and out.
There are things I am afraid to remember but I sleep all day attempting to forget.
My body aches and I tell them all I am sick.
I’m afraid to see the outside and I want to be unmet.
I ponder about the last two years and fear I will never be enough….
I loved you without restraint and it killed me.
You break me everyday.