stop referring to my body as a temple because temples get desecrated and stolen from and i  can’t lose anymore of myself.  my roots are still reaching out to take back the things you’ve stolen from me. i starved myself so there would be less of me for you to take but but but but

 

“you need to breathe”

“shes going to hurt me shes going to hurt me she”

“shes not here-”

 

       Hurt

Me

Hurt me

                                      Hurt

Me

Hit

me I

                       deserve it

 

“im not going to hit you”

“why why why”

 

this isn’t beautiful anymore this isn’t poetic it hurts me im excavating what i can but i think im taking parts of myself with it im sorry im sorry im sorry my fingers are peeling from touching you like all my body knows is phantom hands, phantom lips, phantom phantom phantom

 

when will she stop watching me

 

“healing isn’t supposed to be easy its okay”

“its not okay i hurt i hurt”

 

i think i said no

did i say no?

was it enough

was i enough for you?

 

“look at me please”

“shes right there”

“look at me”

 

eyes wide, hands spread, fingers with dried blood

my bed is still dipped with her silhouette

i know when she looked into my eyes she saw god reflected in them

stop stop stop stop

 

i remember the breathing the breathing in out in out and how i never breathed at all

 

stop stop stop stop

 

i cried for 4 days after

 

breathe breathe breathe

 

i can't sleep without smelling death in her hair and theft on her hands she stands in the corner of my room and watches me, waiting, always hunting

 

i know the firm hand gripping my shoulder and the tense pet-names better than the word sorry

 

“why havent you left me yet?”

“because i love you”

“she said she loved me too”