poetry.

your hands are why I can't sleep at night

how can I ever feel okay again?

how can I ever not be broken?

I feel better every now and then

and I have to keep hoping

that one day I'll be whole

that your voice won't shake me to the core

but all this pain takes its toll

and I don't know if I can mend the rip you tore

and I hate it.

I hate that you don't have to remember

but I have to be hit

over and over, forever and ever

by the memory of you

the feeling of your hands

and the fear that grew

that kills me where I stand

but I have to.

I have to heal

I have to find a way to forget you

and finally start to feel

safe, and protected

but I don't think I will

the tears and hurt that i collected

to try and fill

the hole you ripped in me

but it'll never be enough

and I'll never heal, don't you see?

I'll always be stuck

I hate you.

I hate you and your memory

I hate myself too

and I don't think I'll ever be

capable of trust again

so fuck you

I never want to make amends

I'm done and through

trying to forgive what you did

so don't bother asking me

to pardon your sins

so just leave

leave and never come back

then, maybe, I'll wait and see

I'll find a way to live again

I'll find a way to be free.