I told myself I’d rather be dead

Then let you touch me again.

These words I swore on my grave

And I carry them close to the wound in my heart.

My tears were joyous when they saw you go

And I prayed that I would be long gone

Before you returned.

But my grave hasn’t yet been dug,

My plot hardly even picked,

And I’m staring at you again –

Smiling, hiding,

Knowing that I remembered what you’d did

And that I’d told no one of those nights.

“Promises are meant to be broken”

It was written in your eyes.

The door had barely closed

When your lips attacked

My lips

My face

My neck

And now you’re eating me and all I can wonder

Is why I didn’t kill myself when I had the chance.