by Erin Ajello
I am the living corpse of your regrets;
These bones made from every fiber of your lost innocence.
This heart hollowed out from all you stole from me,
This body bruised in every place you touched me.
When I speak, my own words are muted, as you never listened to them anyway.
All I can say are your lies, and so I am constantly speaking (you always have your falsities prepared).
My eyes change color with the eyes you wish you were staring into.
Mercurous as you are, they change constantly.
These two circles are the blue of the eyes you dreamed of last night, and brown the next second (the color of a girl whose heart you know you can capture).
My veins are as empty as you would like for them to be, but I live on.
You drained me of my blood when you took my pride, my self esteem, and everything else that is now only a distant memory.
My hair is gone entirely, as you never found it pleasing to you anyway.
I am still a girl, still made of the parts you described on others when you were particularly pleased of your conquests.
Only now, even you wouldn’t think of touching me.
