"You are so hard to love sometimes." That is what you texted me in the midst of my depressive episode during the bitterness of winter 2021.
"It is your fault" is what you told me when I confronted you about your addiction and faulty marriage on the couch during The Shawshank Redemption.
"You need more medication" is what you said after the panic attack I had regarding my body and the clothes in my closet.
"You fucked up everything" is what you spat in my ear when I got trapped in the snow at 10 PM after being alone in the cold for hours.
Your voice has been like a dagger dipped in malice, scoring my soul with each pungent word.
If only you were mute,
Then maybe I would be unscathed.
