she looks like my shadow
the final nail in the coffin
now my hurt has taken form
she’s got sharp teeth and nails
when you let go she’ll still be hanging on
she’s walked on all the eggshells
so she’s got calloused feet
and sometimes it’s hard
to distinguish her from me
her skin is bruised
from taking all the hits
when she’s alone,
she can’t fucking take it
she’s mute, she’s silent,
she’s convenient
but not for me
for me, she screeches
in the dead of night
she wakes up, breathless
reaching for shadows
that were never there
a prayer
a pause
a permanent scar
uneasy in the silence
she hears them laugh
in the back of her mind
so it goes
how little they know
about the passive violence
she’s seen it all
her eyes are bloodshot
the inevitable downfall
was not her fault
a grace
a ghost
a guarded embrace
fighting off the pessimism
her hands are stained
from blood she didn’t spill
she tried to pick up the pieces
and yet still failed
I cradle her in my arms
when the thoughts come flooding in
she’s always by my side
commenting on all the ruin