I reread what was said last night,
Sorrowful words written despite,
Good reason and self interest.
Yet another drunken fight,
Where you stay sober,
And take complete advantage over
Me and my insecure eager to please pleas.

You turn me backwards into who I was.
It fills me with disgust;
Should’ve been more careful of who I trust.
How many knives have you thrust,
Into the mark I’ve made of my heart?

I hate who I am when you’re here.
How pathetic I am when you’re near.
Apologies and cries shot out rapid fire in fear.
Every weakness made crystal clear,
Into the perfect easy target.
It’s hard to forget, all you’ve given me is regret,
And shame. I’ll always be the same.

Finally. Will my pride finally pry me,
From my disturbing descent into depravity?
Feeling this stupid, keeps me from craving it.
No longer can you mean a thing to me,
Beyond the faded memory of a disease,
A need, I banished from myself,
To redeem all I once wanted to be.

You turn me backwards into who I was.
It fills me with disgust.
Should’ve been more careful of who I trust.
How many knives have you thrust,
Into the mark I’ve made of my heart?

Jessie Gutierrez