Conversations,
evoking reverie of safe places.
In a time I was wounded,
in a place I never felt safe.

Gone are the eels that would twist my stomach then.
Present still are the faces on such beasts.

Revisited,
dreams that fade into nightmares.
Eye’s so familiar,
morph into bloods own betrayal.

Forever etched into my skin lay your sin.
You inability to feel remorse even now, never then.

You’ve so much as told me,
I should thank you.
I grew up to be something,
even the “Great You” would covet.

Aesthetically pleasing outside,
paired with rotting, soiled inside.
A mess for my love’s prisoner,
to clean up, to manage.

There’s not a pill,
there’s not a wish,
there’s not a God that could bandage,

what you’ve taken from me.