• He took it all away.
    My happiness, beliefs and innocence.
    He was the blade against my porcelain, now-slit wrist.
    He isn't aware (and frankly wouldn't care)
    that he left the wound he inflicted upon me open.
    So the infectious wrist started decomposing.

    I tried stitching it myself,
    but later found it was better left untouched.
    The unbearable pain repelled me from a cure.
    So the wound remained permanent.