I’m not welcome here

Your words have turned sour like fruit that’s sat for too long

I can feel it

It’s the cold in your shoulder when you turn over at night

It’s the meticulous effort you put into making each moment into a fight

You call me bitch

When my heart is healing you take pleasure in ripping it open -stitch by stitch

Moreover, it’s the sweet sting of your anger that kisses my sadness that I know of all too well

When I cry and I still try to repair things

You are too busy being angry to see me with my walls down

And from the heavy bricks of your angry aggression…you have single-handedly built this wall between us.

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