Falling Apart

I think I am falling apart, I miss the way you look at me. The way you smiled when I wasn't there to see. I feel sick when I see you, how you walk over the black dahlias that I grew for someone else, the way you read the books that I loved makes me feel like my organs have been torn off.

I ask you why you watch me at night and why you haunt me in mirrors that I broke. You laugh and brush off my questions. I asked why you planted dandelions in my garden, and you shrugged it off. I hate you. You planted weeds in my heart.

I see the way you gutted the sheep that I raised, they never wanted to be a part of this. Their soft white fleece, stained and hardened by the blood that you spilled on them. I heard their bleats of pain, but I couldn't help them. I was busy putting up the horseshoes that you left hanging upside down.

You wanted a reaction out of me, but my reaction was in the presence of a blank face. You wanted me to scream and shout, but I couldn't. You saw the clothes that I was drying, and you burned them to try and help me.

You made everything worse. You made me worse. You stare at me and beg for forgiveness, but that isn't what I wanted. I wanted to see you on your knees, I want you to sacrifice your heart and serve it to me on a platter. You say that you are sorry, but I know that you are lying.