i hate the way you're still under my flesh and in my bones and wrapped around my throat like a noose the way spiked thorns fuck you over when you touch them and the way i have to call the line of faceless angels to seek solace from the apocalypse you brought on my body even all these years later and you're only a ghost on my skin. i'll never forget the way you looked at me like you were ready to swallow me whole and paced around the room circling your prey and how it rained a downpour. i had to please you for years in order to keep myself alive. because when you're born in a house on fire, you think the entire world's set ablaze and you have nowhere to run. there are still days where i want to slaughter you and mutilate your body and feed your corpse to my dog. anything to reassure myself that you won't hurt me anymore.
