WITH YOUR WORDS

You stand over me,
while I am on my knees,
wallowing in the dirt of my pain.

You pick up a knife,
and with your words,
you cut me
and rip me apart,
over and over.

Even when I beg
for you to stop,
you drop your knife next to me
and walk off,
cold and distant,
abandoning me in the dark.

I pick up your knife
and carry on cutting myself,
ripping every part of me,
to the point
no one would recognize.
I carry on
tearing myself up
with your words;
Crying from
the look in your eyes;
Pleading for death
because I can’t live without you.

I scream and beg
for you to come back,
for you to love me again
but my voice is gone.

My pleas are deaf
to your ears
or, maybe,
you hear me
but you don’t care.

I am nothing.
I deserve nothing.
I drown in a pool,
of my own blood,
of your words.

I wish
you would have rescued me.