i take pills to relieve myself
of the headaches i get
when you hit me with tantalizing
words
i drink this alcohol
to numb the disgust i feel
about my addiction
to your lies
i bring the gun to my head
to feel the cold truth
press against my emotions
and you,
you cut my wrists with teeth
so sharp that your words
come out jagged
you hand me a knife
to ease yourself of responsibility
that comes with our encounter
but i won't let you forget
everything you've used to hurt me
because bullet wounds don't
fully heal
and jagged scars are
faint reminders
of what had been done
so take what you please
and do what you will
but i will follow you
to the end
of the twisted road
and i will take back what's mine
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YOU ARE READING
What's Wrong
Poetrysome of these might not make sense but trust me neither does my mind