Cut open.

I’m bleeding out.

Every ounce of my history.

I pour it on the page.

I chose violence a month ago.

I choose it again today.

That’s healing.

I loved you.

I saw a life we fit together.

You never loved me.

You only wanted to.

You were once hope to me.

That night, I saw you differently.

You became a threat.

Not to someone else.

To myself.

I took the biggest, roughest scissors.

Cut you out of my life.

As if it was easy.

I lied.

The pain held within.

Bitter medicine.

Empty love.

Unreciprocated.

I started healing.

Found life appealing.

Yet you cross my mind.

That moment.

When you became a threat.

Should I have listened?

I walk away.

Love left on a table.

You never sat at.

I think of you.

The way you said my name.

It still lingers.

A warm, precious feeling.

I wish I could hear it again.

No one compares.

I saw us married.

I saw us happy.

I painted a life in oil.

It took too long to dry.

Wet paint smeared off the canvas by your careless hand.

You lied.

You fucked her.

You missed me.

You wanted me.

Crawling back.

I took my biggest bat and swatted you away.

Swinging hard and hitting myself in the process.

You visited.

Careless, foolish.

I ran away.

Dry heaving in the bathroom.

At the thought of your face.

Your potential.

The biggest threat to my future.

I know you hate me.

A demon in your eyes.

Predatory.

I wish I could explain.

I knew they would just sound like lies.

I let the silence give you peace.

I carried my tainted reputation.

A heavy weight for nine months.

Too heavy and too long for the second we were together.

I liked you.

Liked your body and your face.

I see reminders of it in others.

I smile.

I hope you are happy.

I am.

Glad you are not in my life.

Who are you?

Who was I?

Singing melodies, writing haiku.

In meeting, I fell into your lips.

Sealed our fate.

I gave too much.

There’s nothing left.

Learned you.

Understood you.

Folded around to fit and comfort your every crevice.

Wrapped around your spine.

Melded into what you needed.

Left no space for who I wanted to be.

I’m the arsonist.

Burned down the life we built.

You lit the match.

Atone.

Atone.

Bend down.

Knees scratched against concrete.

Atone.

Pray for forgiveness.

Pray for cleansing.

Atone.

Choose violence.

Bleed the words out.

Atone.

Set yourselves free.

Fly away.

Far from me.