Promise me that this time
you’re not gonna lie again, that
when you say you love me you won’t
say it while holding me down and that
awful smirk of yours still haunts me
on nights where I can’t sleep.

Some days are good, other times
it’s still hard to get out of bed in the morning.
I can still smell you on my clothes, on my
bed, and it’s a gagging smell that
chokes every tear from me. I guess
you could call it some sort of revelation
that you are no longer my light, but forever
imprisoned in my shadow.

They say every 7 years, every cell
in your body is replaced, and I don’t know
much about science or anatomy but I’d like
to rejoice in knowing that one day,
your touch will have no longer left it’s imprint
on my skin.

It’s 12:46 in the morning but I’ll still
be thinking of you at 12:46 in the afternoon
and I can’t help but think that maybe
this is still my fault, that you would have
loved me if I had been a good girl, but let’s face it,
I never was for anyone.

After all these years, you’re still the last
person I think about
before I fall asleep.
Your shadow still comforts me
even in the dark.