I don't want to continue to reach for an empty space in my chest. I'm tired of my fingers slipping through the hole and grasping at air. I'm exhausted from seeing your eyes fall through me like some curtain blocking out the sun. I don't want to feel like I have to be pieced together like some torn apart old book. You don't even care to read my verses. It doesn't matter how many times you pick up the crumpled pages. They are clenched tight within your fist and thrown my way.
I will scribble out my name and burn it with the fury that vociferates inside of me.
