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Description
Each word you hurl at me is
A glassy shard
Peeling back my skin so you can
strike at nerves more
            accurately

despite myself
I have to admire your
deft
precision

            There are
slivers in my cuticles
And glass dust in my
lungs

But it only hurts when I curse you
every other
            Tuesday
and alternating
Fridays
and every time I
cough up blood when I breathe, you bitch

Do you know how fragile
            My foundation is?
How stubbornness and will shape the masks
            So everything appears fine
While I hold on to the precipice
            with bloody fingertips
                        Until
                        I
Collapse

And I am nothing more than a wreck
Of the person I should be
Because you are a constant poison
In my gullet
           -A rot in my heart

And there is no cure for you.

Description
Each word you hurl at me is
A glassy shard
Peeling back my skin so you can
strike at nerves more
            accurately

despite myself
I have to admire your
deft
precision

            There are
slivers in my cuticles
And glass dust in my
lungs

But it only hurts when I curse you
every other
            Tuesday
and alternating
Fridays
and every time I
cough up blood when I breathe, you bitch

Do you know how fragile
            My foundation is?
How stubbornness and will shape the masks
            So everything appears fine
While I hold on to the precipice
            with bloody fingertips
                        Until
                        I
Collapse

And I am nothing more than a wreck
Of the person I should be
Because you are a constant poison
In my gullet
           -A rot in my heart

And there is no cure for you.