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With slit wrists and fading hope

I dissolve into meaninglessness

a void of trauma and suffering

a place I always linger

for years now I found closure

in my solitude

and I wish I could say I’ve managed to forget

in case you forgot,

I suffered because of you…

dirty fucking whore

that’s what you called me, isn’t it?

I guess it must be true

because I havent felt clean in two years

no shower has been able to work

all this time I’ve felt your hands

all over me

replaying every event for weeks on end

no hope is left at all

you just wanted to make me suffer

and now I’m giving up