At my worst.

At some far off point you began
using my own words of devotion,
my verses of longing and love
against me as your weapon of
choice, twisting the lyrics farther
into my heart, basking in the light
reflections of the blood dripping
down – either this is your choice,
the decision I’ve been waiting so
patiently for, or either you haven’t
the appetite to acknowledge that
you are breaking me, once again.
It’s all happenstance, for I haven’t
any words left to convince you;
you’ve used them all against me.

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