10 instances when my self-loathing won.
I used to count my minutes by how many
different combinations I could make
of 26 letters.
The words I needed to say were left to rot
inside my mouth.
I cried when you didn’t understand.
I look in the mirror and see a face that was never mine
and eyes that always reminded you of him.
I ripped my skin apart because
I thought you were too lovely
to live beneath my fingernails.
There was a time I slept in the driver’s seat
shivering in summertime
because I could not remember if you loved m.
I believed you when you said you
I let my heart become a butterfly
as I listened to you tell me
how great things still were,
and I allowed you to contain the flutterings.
I watched you choke down cocktail
varieties of poison
while I tasted denial on my lips.
You got up to shower,
I left a warm body print in your bed;
I have yet to explain why.
1,067 days I’ve spent
believing you are a ghost
and refusing your memory.