What will become of me if i forget what you have done?
Who am i if not a hastily bundled cluster of responses
Of reactions to the circumstances pierced into my identity like a dagger to the flesh Leaving a gaping wound no surgery could ever removed
Scars littered across the very make of my being
Forever emphasizing my damage
Without my wounds, who am i? If i could let them fade,
I’m not sure i would
Your words etched into my skull
Your hands ghosting my skin
Lingering wisps of emotions i once held dear
I hate you i love you i love you i hate you crackling through my mind as though they were sparks on an open fire
No one told me hate and love could feel so similar
Inseperable from the identity i built
From the girl you burned
Of course i am unable to let it go
For fear i may be letting go of myself.